#but like the dance was exactly how I remembered it

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

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Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 

It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 

She was alone just as much as he was. 

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 

***

It was quiet in the little cottage. 

Peaceful. 

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 

And then there was her. 

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 

She didn’t fault her for that. 

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 

Which was fine. 

It was. 

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 

Oh well. 

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 

She could just stare at him. 

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 

[girlwithadragonheart]

Leave Me to the Beasts and Bears

Halsin x Female Reader

Summary: Halsin overhears you singing about your struggles as a woman in the world. Comfort ensues

Word Count: 1,271

Warnings: Paris Paloma song, mentions of rape, assault, SA, graphic flashbacks, this fic is very graphic and intense read at your discretion!!! (I love you don't trigger yourself unless you know it's okay) This is a hurt/comfort because I need it

A/N: This song has been looping in my mind for days, and it really highlights womanhood. Also this is my personal experiences all roped together if you don't like it keep scrolling.

BG3 Masterlist

You had been staying with the Grove for quite a while, and no one seemed to mind. You brought light and life to the druids with your music, and you had become a welcome addition to the lovely place. You had found a quiet overlook next to the inner sanctum and often found yourself drawn there for the peace it brought you.

Your fingers danced idly across your lute strings, humming softly to yourself and the surrounding life.

Halsin heard your melodic voice and found himself drawn to you. Tucked just behind you out of sight. Not that it mattered as your eyes fluttered closed.

Cremate me… Deliver me to safety. So that when it’s spent maybe it will be my own.

Scatter ashes… Leave no marker where you plant it. So the hordes will be disbanded as they search on a treasure map for my headstone.

The druid’s brow furrowed as he heard the softness of your voice carrying solemn words. Little did he know what exactly was on your mind.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top.

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again…

Your throat felt tight. You saw them in your mind’s eye. You felt their hands on your skin, calluses scraping against you, nails digging into your arms. Your knees hit the ground with such force they cracked, and you cried out in pain. No one came. Heavy and hard hands ripped your blouse, exposing your chest for predatory eyes.

I’ll tattoo it, just so they think it’s ruined. And if they think it’s ruined, it’s easier to save. But please hurry, if you really love me, and dispose of me unceremoniously in the waves.

You heard the water lapping at the shore as your chest tightened with that familiar panic. Every time you dreamt about it or someone touched you close enough you were brought back to it again and again for days on end. No matter how far you ran, their eyes would always follow you. Their skin was tainting yours no matter where you went. Chest to chest unwilling, but appeasing.

You remembered their fingers carding through your hair, tugging it roughly from your scalp. You remembered how they put it to their lips and breathed in your scent. 

Leave me to the trees and air, I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or buy cuttings of my priceless locks.

Leave me for two days or three, ‘til my fingertips turn green. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

Those rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth open as silent tears flew down your cheeks. Even if you screamed, no one would hear you. If they did, no one would save you. You were alone. Just the way they preferred.

The other hand traveled to their belt buckle. You heard the metal clanging in your ears as though cymbals were clashing next to your head. It was past the point of warning bells and alarms, you were in it and you wouldn’t get away before… before…

And they will come in such dismay, that they never did discover where I lay. And I will burn, my flesh and form. Screaming the words, “it will never be yours!”

I’ll take the flame over desecration, promise you’ll make all these arrangements. Don’t you dare think it’s overkill!

I wouldn’t wish the watching on anybody, so if for that reason only, swear to me you will!

Halsin watched you stand, and he heard the tears clogging your throat. He watched you scream these words out to the sea, and he felt his own throat close up. Memories of the Underdark and the drow couple started to surface in his mind. Maybe it was the words or the emotions, but what he thought of fondly started to seem less than. He heard you sniffle, and suddenly he felt those restraints on his wrists and ankles again. He felt them touching him, and his mind wanted to trick him into enjoying it. It wanted to appease his captors and draw pleasure where he could, but this… 

He was watching you break, and for the first time it was like looking in the mirror. For the first time he could see someone else breaking and recognize himself in them. 

And you choked up, feeling suffocated by the memory. You’ll never forget what it felt like. What it tasted like. The weight, the heat, the flavor, the intrusion was forever branded on your mind, body, and soul. It would always be there.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top. 

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

It was barely a melody at this point. More a choked whisper as you fell to your knees, lute laying still on the ground.

You felt the phantom soreness of every event, every time your body was used for someone else's desires. You heard every word of pleasure and longing that had ever passed to your ears. You felt their hands as they groped and poked and prodded even when you said no. Thousands upon thousands of strangers touching you. Friends touching you. Family touching you, and you couldn’t make them stop. 

But it’s fine because they love you. No! No more. This is not alright, I’m not alright. I’m not alright, I’m not, but no one understands, and no one will even listen, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!

Strong arms wrap around you, trying to hold you together, but you’re falling apart freely with no air resistance, and the only thing stopping you is the embrace of warmth and strength and the smell of the earth. You didn’t realize you were screaming. You only thought you were crying, but you didn’t realize how much. 

Not until Halsin collapsed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

You felt his salty tears against your neck as you turned into him, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hands clawed at him desperately, trying to breathe in his safety and comfort all the while he tried to take yours. Kindred spirits, twin flames, two souls having walked the same path, and all you could do was hold onto each other for the ride and pray that you would make it to the other side.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, burying your face in his shoulder.

His arms encompass you completely, holding you together. His large hands cover your back almost entirely, as though he’s attempting to shield you from your past with his large frame. You allow yourself this brief respite. After everything you’ve endured, you haven’t recovered, and you aren’t sure that you ever will.

It’s of small comfort to you that someone of Halsin’s size and stature knows the pain you’ve endured and has experienced it for himself. But you don’t know those circumstances. Perhaps he is only so large and muscular to protect what he couldn’t in the past. Perhaps he hopes to protect you in the same way.

Either way you are glad he is here.

“You are safe here,” He told you. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Are you guys okay after that? I'm not. Whew.

Have a good night <3

Tag List: @leiotyp

As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

[cakerybakery]

Lucifer groaned still mostly asleep. A tiny fist was digging their tiny claws into his lip. He wretched his head away and tried to turn but his arm was trapped under a much heavier body than his son and his tail was wrapped around a thick thigh.

He opened his eyes a little. It was still the middle of the night and it took his eyes a minute to adjust. Over their newly hatched son’s head he spotted Adam.

It took Lucifer a few ticks to remember. Their son had been colicky. The two of them paced back and forth, taking turns until just past midnight.

When he finally settled down Lucifer had just laid him between them on Adam’s bed and passed out.

They still had yet to name the little fellow. Adam had been too busy with his victory dance when he hatched.

“A son! I fucking told you. These nuts produce boys!”

“Point of order, Adam. You have exactly one more son than you did daughters, he was the tie breaker. And two, your nuts were not involved in this process. They were born like all heaven-borns. Some of my blood, some of your blood, and a magic spell.”

That didn’t stop Adam from being happy he was right and they had a prince of purgatory. Lucifer that thought for sure they had a little princess.

Another little hand grabbed at him, the baby curled into his chest.

It was going to be weird having Adam around but he was working from home and commuting to heaven once a week after his very generous parental leave from his heavenly duties was up in another two years. Adam coming to live in hell until the baby was grown and ready to take over ruling purgatory was the only option.

Adam wasn’t about to do altering weeks. He refused to miss any of the baby milestones. And Lucifer couldn’t go to heaven. So for the next twenty odd years Adam would be living in his guest room.

Lucifer snuggled the baby with his free arm.

He gave the boy a kiss on his crown. And his tiny halo glowed.

In the dim light Lucifer smiled at Adam over their boy’s head. It was cute how he was cuddling their son. Arms wrapped about him and keeping him safe.

Lucifer laid back down to go back to sleep.

Wait. That wasn’t right.

He poked his head back up. He looked at the baby in his arms. And he looked at the baby in Adam’s arms.

“Son of a bitch! They’re twins!”

He startled Adam awake.

“Huh? What? What’s going on? Lucifer?” Adam squinted up at him. “What are you yelling about?”

“Ugh. Twins! They’re fucking twins.” Lucifer rolled onto his back and rubbed at his forehead as he groaned. “No wonder he was colicky. He was trying to divide.”

“What twins? Who’s twins? Were you dreaming?” He could hear Adam sitting up.

Lucifer pulled his freed arm away and gestured between them. “Count the babies.”

“Uhh? Suuure? One… two… Two? TWO! The fuck?!? Where did the second baby come from??”

“Same place all heaven-born twins do. The baby hatched and divided. Usually it’s right away. The record for taking the longest was Michael and I. Twelve hours.” Lucifer grabbed the clock and looked. “But I think they just beat that. They were about twelve hours old when we got him to sleep. It’s four am now. So sometime in the last four hours he divided.”

“Guess I’m two up for sons, then.” Adam groaned, trying to make a joke despite everything.

Lucifer checked the diaper of the one he was cuddling. “Looks like a tie again. But I’m two to one now. If he’s still a he. Things get tricky during a divide. A boy dividing into two girls isn’t unusual.”

Adam checked his baby. “Tie.”

“Oh fuck!” Lucifer cursed.

“What?”

“This mean double the fucking paperwork.”

“Oh fuck!”

[roaringroa]

to the beautiful girl dressed as juliet from the halloween party two days ago: i am still thinking about you

[snekdood]

personally, i dont see the fundamental difference between deleting your account and making a new one and deleting all your old posts, if we're talking about "running from ones past", then what are you tryna hide there, bud?

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

WARNING: Crying, comparison, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.

At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.

As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.

pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.

A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.

A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.

However, her joy was momentary.

As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.

Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.

"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"

"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."

The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.

How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.

Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.

She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.

Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.

With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.

She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.

She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.

The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.

"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"

"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.

Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.

"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.

She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.

"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.

Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.

Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.

"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.

Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.

"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"

Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.

"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.

His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.

"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"

Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.

“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.

She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.

The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.

The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.

"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.

She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.

The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.

Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.

Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.

At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.

They would really look beautiful together.

Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.

Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.

At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.

His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.

A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.

With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.

Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.

With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.

Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.

Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.

Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"

Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.

And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."

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[sweetnans]

love me already

Pairing: f. reader/bakugo katsuki Summary: dual POV where mc is tired of waiting for Bakugo to be truth and confess his feelings for her. tw: none. Just fluff and chaos.

"Y'know, I think I'll just tell Bakugo I like him." You were drunk, and a sort sense of boldness invaded you all of a sudden.

"Girl, don't do that." Mina put her hands on your bare thigh from your skirt ridden up. "Wait till you sober up"

You were hanging with Mina after a month of not seeing each other, being pro heroes tide up your schedule so you were out of reach most of the time, only reachable by the phone. You had a blast of a night, went clubbing, and drank while dancing like old times.

"He's playing with my mind, I swear," the words spurred out of your system, and you felt like you might start to cry in any second. "He's always sending texts and asking if I'm hurt after a fight and-"

"Hey! He doesn't do that to me!" Mina whined, putting her left hand above his heart.

"Exactly! He's this obsessive fucker who thinks he's better than everyone else, always so cocky and he had me wrapped around his fingers with the details that I know he only do to me, so obnoxious" you let a sigh trying to come down from your despertarion but something made you see red again. "And yet he never confessed! I'm tired Mina what if he's just playing with me and doesn't want anything serious just fuck with me and hop on to the next. Maybe he thinks I'm playing hard to get, and now I'm kind of a challenge to him, you know the bastard"

Now you were upset.

"Mmhm, just give him some time. He has had a crush on you since we were at UA" Mina bit his nails and poured another glass for you.

"Exactly, that's what everyone says! His mom, his dad even Midoriya who can't catch a fucking clue even if it's tingling in front of his eyes. If He thinks I'm going to wait forever for him to grow a pair of balls? He's got another thing coming. " You downed the entire glass, and Mina hurried to pour another.

...

"She haven't talked to me in an hour," Katsuki stated, folding some papers on his desk.

"Man, it's her night off duty, I heard Mina said that they were going out tonight," Kirishima made a spun in his chair. "Partying and doing girl's shit"

Bakugo hated staying in the office so late, but the papers were not going to fill themselves out. At least Kirishima was there with him, trying to calm him down, but doing a pretty bad job.

"I swear if Mina let her fall into a ditch again I'm going to-"

"For fuck sake, bro!" Kirishima rolled his eyes, almost disappearing in his skull. "It was one time! Let it go. She was fine and giggling like a mad woman when you went to her rescue"

"I just worry about her," he grunted. "I'm a hero, that's my work"

"Yeah, with civilians, but she's a real hero, y'know." Kirishima pushed. Not in the six years that he'd seen Bakugo after you, has he been able to get the real confession out of his mouth.

Bakugo checked his phone again. Nothing.

...

"I'm going to get up there and tell him that I'm done waiting for him"

You didn't know how you convinced Mina into your crazy idea, but now you were outside, in front of your apartment's lobby, waiting for a cab.

"Don't you think you need to reconsider, maybe? You're tipsy honey, what if he's not even there" Mina tried to talk to you out of it, but she knew better, you were stubborn as hell, the least she could do was following you and making sure that, this time, you didn't end up in a ditch.

"He's there, he told me," you stopped a cab lifting a finger and told the driver the direction.

The way to Katsuki's agency was a haze. You remember looking at Mina, her eyes closed, trying to rest before the chaos breaks loose.

"Do you know what you are going to say?" She mumbled with her eyes closed and grabbed your hand to reaffirm her company and her friendship.

You had no idea.

...

"This is taking ages," Kirishima complained, trying to read the papers and arrange them by dates. "Why can't we just shred them and pretend it didn't happen?"

"The TV broadcasted the fight, you dumbass"

Katsuki was tired too, but he needed to make and fill the reports before tomorrow morning.

"Did she answered you?" Kirishima asked.

It was a lame night. He was practically locked up with his best friend all alone in his office. He had a purpose, and that was making him confess his love for you.

"No," he briefly checked his phone again before returning his eyes to the files. "What if she's in a ditch?"

"She's not!" Kirishima raised his voice qhile laughing, and Katsuki only grunted in response. "So what's the deal with her? You still like her or what?"

"Who told you I liked her in the first place?" He was smug about his answer, not giving away any hint of his real feelings for you.

"C'mon, everybody knows," something dark flowed into Kirishima's mind. He felt like a child poking a mad dog with a stick. "At least in our class, I mean, I remember Todoroki showing interest in her once, and you completely beat him up in spared fight, and Mirio that time he gave her a flower from the patio, you were fuming I still remember the red shade of angry in the tips of your ears"

"Keep working"

That phrase only gave him more fuel to continue the poking the beast game.

"Man, why don't you just be truth to yourself? Like, is it that hard to accept the feelings you have for her? She's amazing, smart, beautiful, She's a beast on the field and has a great heart. What's the problem, Dynamight?

He touched a sensitive fiber using his hero name. He always bragged about being the best, bold and facing everything, and everybody who dared to get in his way, but he was acting like a real pussy with you.

"I'm scared I'm not good enough, you happy?" He was upset, and Kirishima was astonished with his confession. He expected an angry gremlin yelling at him for being so annoying, spurring out his confession between variabilities of insults, but he didn't expect his best friend, the know it all and do it all feeling like he wasn't enough.

"Not enough? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Yeah, of course you have a shitty attitude, but you care for her. You're the main example of manliness. You are always taking care of her, giving her your attention, making time for taking her out of a ditch while you were patrolling, I mean, I would've left her there" Kirishima joked to make Bakugo less worried about himself. "I'm telling you man, you are it for her, but you gotta hurry the fuck up because what you see in her, everybody could see it too"

In the quietness of his office, full of papers with his best friend, giving shitty but quiet good advice, he realized that he needed to tell you his feelings, he couldn't wait anymore time.

...

You sobered up real quick. Having the massive building in front of you in the middle of a cold and freezing night, returned every sense that you needed in your body.

"You are doubting" Mina established.

"I'm freezing," you counterattacked. "Why didn't you tell me to put some jeans on?"

The dancing and the drinking made you feel hot and raised your temperature and you knew it, so you put on a skirt before going out without thinking you would come out of the house after coming from the club.

The lights were on, in the floor where Bakugo's office was situated. If you squinted your eyes, you could even see the shapes of Kirishima's and Bakugo's bodies through the glass. Or you were just still drunk.

"He won't be there forever, and you're going to catch a cold if you keep us waiting here for something to happen," Mina urged, hugging herself to keep the cold out.

"You're right, it's now or never," you said, walking determinated into the big glass doors to make yourself in.

With Mina behind you, you pushed the doors, and the guard glanced at you. He recognized you and Mina immediately, but you two put your credentials out just for safety. He gave you a nod and you continued your way to the elevator.

"Are you nervous?" Mina asked while you pressed the elevator button.

"Like shit." You watched the countdown in red numbers above the elevator doors. The elevator was in Bakugo's floor so no one was around.

The ding in the elevator startled you a little, and the turmoil in your stomach didn't make it any better. Mina pushed you through the open doors and pressed the button to Bakugo's floor.

...

"Thank god it's done." Kirishima was spining in his chair while Katsuki looked for his stuff to bring them home with him. "Are you ready to face your true feelings?"

Kirishima didn't drop the topic after the big confession and the great advice, he kept pushing his best friend and giving him ideas on how to tell you, some of them were good and some of them were trash, but Bakugo just listened and ignored at the same time.

"Shut the fuck up" Katsuki growled lowly stuffing his belonging into his black backpack.

"Isn't it romantic? Like, after all this time, you could just walk in with a bouquet of flowers and, wait no, walking? That's lame. What about a white horse? Yeah, that's manly. " Kirishima was hopeless, and even though Bakugo showed a scowl at his words he was actually having fun.

"No horses, but maybe a bouquet will be cool," he was making peace with his own feelings. At the end of the day, what was the worst that could happen?

...

"I think I'm going to pee, shit," you pressed your bladder, and Mina laughed at you.

"You can't be serious right now, we are halfway," she said while you danced funny in front of her.

"I'm sorry I process my emotions somatically," you started to feel cloudy, and your hands started to sweat.

"Hey, relax. He's so into you, maybe he'll stand like a rock for the first three seconds but then he will be all over you confessing, don't worry, and if I'm wrong you can always have Shindo"

You made a gag.

"I hate Shindo," you told her.

"But he follow you like a puppy," Mina imitated a cute puppy joining his hands under her chin and poked out her tongue.

The elevator stopped with a big thump, and you feared in a good way. You had your adrenaline up, and there were still remains of booze in your system to give you a boost.

"It's time, big girl." Mina patted your shoulder and gave you a little push.

...

Kirishima stretched himself, and Bakugo took his backpack, grabbing the zipper of a back pocket to fetch the keys of his office to close it.

He was busy looking for the keys when Kirishima started patting him in the arm repeatedly.

"What?" He told him tired and with heavy eyes. Kirishima's eyes were the exact opposite of him. They were big and surprised, looking at the other side of the glass doors of his office.

He followed Kirishima's look and stopped in you.

At first, he thought it was a kind of a mirage, then he thought that maybe he was more tired than he realized, and then he thought that maybe it was a villain whose quirk was morphing into peoples body's.

Every thought ended at the sound of your voice.

...

You walked through the hallway, practicing a speech of what you were going to say to him. You did it over and over, stumbling words in your own mind. You were there, physically and mentally, ready to take all your feelings for him out. You couldn't chicken out.

You saw his figure in the last office at the end of the hallway, body contouring to grab something from his backpack.

Kirishima was the first to notice you, his eyes wide open at the sight of you two walking in the middle of the night like you owned the place. He gave multiple pats to Bakugo's arm, and from afar, you could notice that he was tired.

Maybe your boldness wasn't the best thing to do at that moment.

You couldn't make your way out because he turned his gaze from the backpack to you in a second. By his look, you could see the gears in his brain moving to give some sort of explanation of what was happening in front of him.

He opened the door, forgetting completely that Kirishima was in his way. The red-haired boy pushed him a little, giving him courage, not caring that his best friend kinda kicked him, stumbling against him.

You two were in the same hallway looking face to face. Your two best friends a step back making themselves a crowd in what was about to happen.

"What are -" Katsuki started disoriented, looking for proof or a mark that you were injured or hurt.

"Shut up," you told him. Katsuki was very surprised at your determined tone.

"I'm liking this already," Kirishima muttered behind Katsuki, grinning like the Chesire cat.

The silence between the four of you was something that was eating your bones. It wasn't awkward, but it was heavy. You told him to shut up, but you weren't talking either, and you knew it. All the speech that you practiced before vanishing from your mind.

"Are you-

"Are you going to love me already!?"

You spoke at the same time, but your message was clear. Mina was right, Katsuki stood like he was made of stone, rigid, stoic, not even a muscle moving from your confession.

You sounded desperate. You blamed your thoughts, your desire to go pee, that you were at least fifteen percent still drunk and that you were freezing. You wanted to get over this chapter in your life, you didn't want to fool around any longer and for that you needed to know if Katsuki was on the same page as you.

"Oh my god," Mina said, holding his face with both hands.

"Shh," Kirishima silenced her. "This is better than the ditch episode"

You could tell that the booze in your system worn off just by waiting for Katsuki's response. The tic tac in your intern clock made it impossible to bear the silence.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to stay there forever?" You hurried him, trying to hide the anxious feeling that you felt coming out of your voice.

...

Kirishima kicked Bakugo's heavy boots to take him out of his trance. It worked.

You always said to him that you were half witch, at least, always feeling before it happened. He wandered if this was one of those situations.

"I'm-

It was the first time that he felt speechless. He knew you from head to toe, and now he noticed that you were under the effects of alcohol but sounded sure about it. The way that you let it out was some kind of outburst from the time he took to process what he really felt about you. He knew he treated you differently. He liked spending time with you, and he found himself checking his phone very often, looking for a message from you. He was whipped.

He saw your bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had to do something.

...

It happened quickly.

First, you throwing your feelings at him like it was a ball of fire, then his eternal silence, and after that, your guts twisting inside of you, your throat closing, your nose pricking and your bottom lip trembling.

It was over for your fantasies with him.

Was it the worst-case scenario? Yes. Will you be able to get over it? Absolutely. Will the healing process hurt? Like hell.

You were weighing your options when the sound of heavy boots against the carpeted floor woke you up from your suffering.

He was a mere inch from you. Your body and his body were separated by a thin layer of air. You could feel the air coming out from his nose, hitting your forehead. He was tall, and you were almost the size of a elf.

"Never call me out about what I already do"

That's everything that came out of his mouth before joining his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. He wasn't gentle, but the way that he grabbed you by both sides of your face made you float in your spot.

You didn't have the time to process what he said or why he said that, forgetting what you said first, but ignoring the cheerful sounds coming from your friends mouth, you could only concentrate in his mouth moving against yours. Finally.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[uzurakis]

BLUE LOCK REQ!! SOMETHING WITH SAE'S GF WEARING HIS JERSEYY?? THANKYOUU

“isn’t that my jersey?” he remarks, face deadpans as he emphasizes the my in his tone. you stroll into the living room wearing your beloved boyfriend’s jersey; the fabric soft against your skin and the oversized fit adds a comfortable charm to your appearance

knowing exactly how he’ll react, you pridefully boast him. “yep, the one and only itoshi sae’s jersey,” you confirm, flashing him a playful wink. “thought i’d borrow it for the day.”

“tck tck,” sae shakes his head, sneering at you. “always stealing my clothes,” he mutters, standing up from the chair and walks straight to you. “give it back,” trapping you in his cuddle while you giggle at his attempt to show his kind of affection.

“orr what? besides, it’s not stealing if you’re willing to share,” you counter, playfully trying to break free from his smothered trap, “get off ‘f me or i’m not giving this back, itoshi sae.”

sae chuckles softly, letting you free as reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately. “it’s still my jersey,” he concedes, tugging your shirt like a lost kid, a smile hugging at the corners of his lips. “but just remember, that jersey belongs to the best midfielder in the league.”

you roll your eyes playfully, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “i’ll keep that in mind,” you promise, enjoying the banter between you two. but as you attempt to retreat, sae catches hold of the fabric, tugging you gently back toward him.

“no, seriously, give it back,” he protests, his face back being expressionless. “i need that for practice tomorrow.”

leaning back slightly to avoid his grasp, you chuckle. “i’ll give it back later,” you assure him, dancing out of his reach. “right now, it’s mine.”

sae narrows his eyes in seriousness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “is that so?” he challenges, taking a step closer to you. “i guess i’ll just have to take it back then.”

you squeal with laughter, darting away as he lunges playfully after you. the two of you chase each other around the room, the sound of your laughter filling the air. and as you finally collapse onto the couch together, breathless and giggling. only when you mouth i win, sae flops down beside you, his chest rising and falling with exertion.

“alright, you win. one day, just one day and i’m taking back whatever’s mine.”

“of course, you included, stupid.”

@uzurakis

[inkskinned]

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: SHOKO (feat. The Boys)

A/N: This took an entirely different route than I expected when I first started dribbling it. This was a fun one 🤭

C/W: Cuckholding, Mature, 18+

Fact: You are the hottest woman alive.

Fact: Shoko is no better than a man.

Shoko is no better than a man because she has used you — your pictures, your smile, your tight hugs — as her personal spank bank.

Truthfully, she can’t really pinpoint the moment you broke her brain.

All she remembers is that there was an inflection point in time. Before meeting you. And after meeting you.

And the funniest part of it all is that you two have nothing in common.

Shoko is a sorcerer at Jujutsu Tech. You are a normie at University of Tokyo.

Shoko can count on one hand how many people she can tolerate. People flock to you in droves. And you like it.

Shoko is red wine and cigarettes. You are champagne and birthday cake.

So how the hell did a bubble gum, pretty pink, girly girl, princess work her way into Shoko’s life? And take permanent residence in a little (extremely large) part of her brain?

Not to mention the havoc you are wreaking in her heart. Whatever is left of the cold, shriveled plumbing system keeping her alive.

When was it exactly?

Shoko lights another cigarette on her short 2 mile walk home. You have a habit of making her burn through her vices.

Was it the night you went out dancing?

When the dress you wore made Shoko see God?

You grinded every part of your mind-altering curves on her, and Shoko left sopping wet. At home she immediately reached for her vibrator. Unable to look herself in the eye for a full day after that.

Or maybe it was the time you fell asleep curled up in her lap. Wearing one of her old ratty softball shirts, smelling like her shampoo. Small, rhythmic breaths flowing from your lips.

You looked like the missing puzzle piece in Shoko’s life.

No, no.

It’s definitely was the time you came barreling into her apartment with balloons and flowers and cupcakes that were too sweet. All because Shoko had finally mastered her reversed curse technique before the prodigal sons.

You can barely even grasp the concept of curses. And why would you?

A soft, gentle soul like you couldn’t muster enough negativity to form a curse.

You live in the clouds. Among the angels. You can’t see curses and yet — somehow —you’re the most supernatural person in any room.

She’s completely, fully, idiotically smitten with you.

And so is everybody else.

You pretty, unaware little thing. You have the two strongest sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech and their personal medic wrapped around your dainty fingers and you have no idea.

Suguru? He stares. Vision sharper than a hawk. He watches you talk, eat, walk, text, think. Suguru anticipates your next breath and would kiss oxygen into your mouth if he could. Even still, despite how taken he is, Suguru is the best at concealing his puppy love.

Satoru is the absolute worst.

Limitless goes off the second you step into a room. And Satoru rarely clicks off his technique otherwise. Even when it’s just Shoko or Suguru around.

He all but chains you to his body. He’s always lifting you, hugging you, carrying you, holding your hand, holding your hair. Satoru would crawl inside of your body and live there, if he could.

Then there’s Shoko.

Who seethes when anyone looks your way. But also masturbates to the thought of other people touching you.

A fucking mess of a conundrum, right?

The first time it happened was about 8 months ago. Definitely one too many glasses of Cabernet were poured. You two were gabbing on the phone. Exchanging the best and worst sex you’ve had to date.

And you. In that melodic, breathy, gossamer thin voice of yours that belongs in Heaven’s choir started saying the dirtiest things. About how cock-drunk you were. How you begged and pleaded for more. Swallowed cum like it was your only sustenance. And squirted all over your lover, only to kiss it off his face after.

Shoko touched herself until she came right then and there. On the phone. You unknowingly talking her through her one of the most satisfying orgasms of her life.

Since then it’s been a horrible habit she’s given into time and time again.

And who’s to say? Maybe it’s from constantly being in the shadows of Suguru’s Sun and Satoru’s Moon that there’s comfort in watching from the side lines?

Maybe she’s found the sweet pleasure in that pain and it’s manifested as her lust for others having their way with you? And her blind infatuation with you?

No, wait.

Not blind.

With you it’s like she has the Six Eyes. And with you, so does everyone else.

Shoko drags in a long, exasperated breath. Pausing just outside her apartment entrance, stomping out the last of her menthol.

If the time she spent mulling over you in her mind could be converted caloric energy - she’d be a supermodel by now.

Whatever.

Today’s the best day of the week. Friday.

Which means when Shoko opens her door, you’re going to be fussing about the kitchen. Cooking some kind of dessert for Movie Night.

The Boys usually trip over themselves getting to Shoko’s apartment after classes. But there’s always an idyllic 15 minutes where Shoko has you all to herself.

15 minutes in Heaven. Like she’s a damn middle school girl.

Shoko opens her door and nearly flatlines.

You’re evil.

An evil, mean, cruel tease.

You KNOW anyone with eyes would have a stroke at the site of you.

Fully bent over at the waist, rummaging through pots and pans. Not a single blemish on your silky smooth skin. Your lilac boy shorts could not BE any tighter. And of course, they’re just short enough to not cover the plump shelf of your lower ass cheeks.

Shoko’s hands start twitching. Like she’s going through withdrawal.

You pop back up with a triumphant “there it is!” An empty small pot in your hands. And Shoko thinks she’ll have to add a heart attack to her growing list of ailments.

Your matching lilac tank top is egregiously and deliciously small. The sliver of tummy between the hem of the top and waist of your shorts could bring civilizations to collapse.

Not to mention that the apartment is cold. And your nipples are so painfully responsive.

Sin.

You are sin.

Wrapped in the most beautiful frame of a woman.

“Babe!! You’re already home. I let myself in because the icing for these cupcakes takes forever to get right.”

You flash your Colgate smile, ensnaring Shoko in your trap.

“You’re going to give Satoru and Suguru a heart attack.” Her, you’re going to give her a heart attack.

“Hmm? Why do you say that?” So non-chalant. So oblivious.

Shoko gestures to your outfit. Attempting to mirror your nonchalance. But, ironically, she can feel her face tumbling down the descending shades of red.

Genuine confusion weaves though your features and she almost screams.

“Shoko please. You know they don’t see me that way!”

Everyone, gorgeous. EVERYONE. Sees you that way.

Before she could edge another word out, the familiar hum of Limitless buzzing inward splits Shoko’s thoughts in half.

Dammit, they’re early.

“Daddy’s Home!”

Satoru charges straight at you because of course he would.

“Satoru!!!” You’re a plaything in his arms. Legs tightening around his waist.

Shoko would pay an inordinate amount of money to trade places with him.

She watches through an envy-green screen. How easily Satoru spins you and tosses you on the kitchen counter. Situating himself between your soft thighs.

How would your body bounce against his hips thrusting into you?

“You have to taste this, pretty boy.”

Tsk. He’s not THAT pretty.

Both Shoko and Suguru watch through parted lips as you shove half a cupcake into Satoru’s mouth. Neither of you miss how his tongue flicks between your fingers. Or how his hips lean closer to your barely clothed flower.

He lets out an exaggerated groan. “Fucking, perfect. I could eat your cupcake..all night.”

“You perv.”

You laugh and shove Satoru back from between your legs. Then turn in Shoko’s direction.

Silently curving your index finger forward, you beckon. Both Shoko and Suguru start toward you like well-trained, love-struck pets.

“No pouting Suguru, you’re pretty too. And up next.”

And Shoko’s shoulders sink like the child who is picked last for dodge ball teams.

Her eyes trail Suguru’s back - wishing to every God she was born with a technique allowing her to take over a host’s body.

“Me next.” He settles between your legs.

Suguru, the master of subtlety. Everyone but you can pick up on the strain in his baritone.

There’s something so painfully sensual about the way he grips both of your thighs. Your skin is so smooth, so pliant under his large hands. Waiting on your fingers to invade his mouth.

How pretty would your lips look like wrapped around his fingers? Do your cheeks hollow out when you suck on something larger?

Shoko crosses her right foot over the left. As if jamming her thighs together would stop the growing pool of lust between her legs.

“Alright babe, best for last. I have something for you too.”

Suguru takes his time pulling away from the warmth of your core. And Shoko has to strap her mind to her body to keep from sprinting at you.

Eventually, she nestles between your legs and is at eye level with your pert nipples. Immediately caught in a trance. So close to her mouth.

“Blushing so much!” Your thumb pulls Shoko’s focus back to earth.

Blushing so much because she wants to watch her best friends fuck you. Then lick your cunt clean after they’re done.

“I’m not, what’s my surprise?”

“So demanding.” You giggle. Your palm takes away Shoko’s view of your perky, hard nipples.

“Open.”

Shoko’s jaw hangs at your command. Cold glass hits her lips before the full bodied, decadent Cabernet does.

Red wine. Because she hates sweets.

You’re as thoughtful as you are beautiful and everything you do is a turn on.

“Mmmm,” Shoko hums and you gift her vision back.

“Amazing, right?” You take your own sip, maintaining eye contact.

Shoko’s eyes fall to your lips. And how you roll the wine over your tongue. Savoring each drop.

How would your tongue feel rolling around her mouth? Her neck? Her nipple? What kind of sounds would you make if her tongue rolled around your petals? Your clit? What do you taste—

“Movie time?” You break Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s daze.

All three of them scramble around you. Grabbing your cupcakes, snacks and wine to settle in on Shoko’s huge sectional couch.

You drape your body over Satoru and Suguru’s lap. A little loose limbed kitten. Shoko situates herself on the long arm of her chair.

Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything you do in the the most permanent part of her mind.

You nuzzle your cheek into Suguru’s thigh. His forearm immediately drops in front of his crotch. Undoubtedly to avoid spearing you with his manhood.

“Play with my hair, Suguru?”

“Yes. Of course.”

His free hand weaves into your hair. The soft, decadent moan you exhale sent visible shudders down their spines.

Shoko’s eyes laser to Satoru’s hands. His eyes haven’t touched the screen since the movie began. His grasp encompasses your entire back thighs. Slowly gliding them up to the delicate mounds of your ass.

“God that feels amazing.”

Satoru’s Adams Apple drags along the column of his throat. “Yeah?”

“So good.”

You deepen the arch in your back and the physical restraint Satoru imposes on himself is visible.

The only person watching the movie is you.

And the room tilts on its axis the moment you melt deeper into the boys’ hands. Their names, quiet praise, seep from your lips.

Satoru and Suguru exchange hooded gazes.

As if to commiserate about how fucking hot you are. And how it’s taking active awareness of every single muscle to not do vulgar things to you.

Not even a backward glance Shoko’s way.

Again.

Leaving Shoko out of the conversation. Again.

She angrily tosses a blanket over her lap. Frustration bubbling up her throat. Her fingers clumsily fumble with her zipper. She’s pissed. Angry. Fucking jealous.

And so turned on she might crawl out of her skin if she doesn’t touch herself this goddamn second.

Shoko’s fingers are ice cold against her warm, wet clit. It’s agonizing. How incredible the pressure feels.

You look delicious. So small between their laps. Far too tiny to handle them both.

But God it would be so hot.

It would be so fucking hot. To watch you choke all over Suguru’s cock. Slobber into his lap. All while Satoru bullies his length into your soft, dewy pussy. Helpless. Overstimulated.

Getting used like the pretty Barbie doll you are.

And the way they touch you, so brazenly, in front of her.

Like Shoko’s presence isn’t even remotely threatening. She isn’t any competition for their big hands and broad shoulders. Masculine frames. That’s why she’s just sitting there. Pathetic. Rubbing herself dumb just watching.

She would be so happy, so fucking eager to lap you clean. Pet your swollen, abused folds when they’re done with you. Hump a pillow while she sucks your nipples. You’d moan and whine and squirm under her touch.

Would you beg? Or laugh at how pitiful she is? Getting off to remnants of you when the Boys have had their way?

Shoko accidentally choking on her own drool draws almost everyone’s attention to her. The hand that was molesting her sensitive bud freezes.

Suguru’s eyes flicker back down to you, sleeping beauty.

Their coordinated touch lulled you to bed. Satoru’s eyes linger on Shoko long enough to make her simmer under his gaze. She blinks back to the movie, credits now scrolling up the screen.

How long was Shoko day dreaming?

“Let’s get her to bed.” Suguru gently pulls you onto his chest. You sleepily drape your arms around his neck.

Satoru follows close behind him into Shoko’s room. Because putting the smallest little kitten to bed is a two person job.

Shoko scrambles to zip up her pants and swipe the last of her arousal on the blanket. She gets to the doorway and watches the Boys dote over you in a way that makes them slightly more endearing.

You wake up long enough to murmur goodnight. Floating your arms in the air so the boys can bring their hugs to you. Both of them place quick pecks on your forehead. Leaving you with the cutest, most content smile on your sleepy face.

At least Suguru can hold it together. He weaves out of Shoko’s room quickly.

Satoru, however, keeps stopping along the 10 foot pace to the doorway to just stare. As if a monster from your nightmares will pop up the second he leaves you alone.

Shoko snorts, arms crossing her chest. “Put it back in your pants, yes?”

“Look who is talking.” Sly grin pulls across Satoru’s perfect, blinding teeth. Shoko could punch him right now.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ieiri. I have the fucking six eyes. What do you think I’m talking about.”

Satoru wires around Shoko’s stunned body.

He and Suguru are out of her apartment before she can bat her eyelashes 5 times.

Shoko all but sprints to the kitchen. She gulps the rest of her red wine. Something. Anything to burn Satoru’s comment out of her mind. And to put out the desperate flame between her legs.

You’re in her bed.

She’s just been masturbating watching her two best friends touch you.

One of her best friends is FULLY aware of this all.

Her hands shakenly pour another, head sized glass of Cabernet. Which is doing absolutely nothing for how lusty she feels right now. And everything to destroy her self control.

Why does she have to sit on the sidelines?

Why do they get access to you that she doesn’t?

She downs the last few drops of red wine. Storming back to her room. She’s going to confront this once and for all.

You’re strewn over her bed like a silk scarf. Rolling, tender hills of flesh. Valleys of feminine curves. Shoko grips both of your dainty wrists. Tossing you onto your back.

Sleepy groans bubble out of you. Your eyes lazily slide open. Not an ounce of concern on your face. Full of trust. Even though Shoko is glaring down at you like she wants to crawl in your skin.

“Bad dream?”

“No.” Shoko is kurt. Angry. Jealous.

“What is it?”

“I just…” Moonlight is kissing your face in the way Shoko wants to.

“T-The boys,” Your eyes flutter expectantly. Nose crinkling in fuzzy confusion.

“The-the boys always get to touch you. And pick you up. And tuck you in. And kiss you. And-and I-im just…”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Shoko hears her heart stop beating.

What did you just ask? So casually. As if you didn’t just catapult her into another dimension.

“H-huh? What?” Shoko didn’t hear you right.

There’s no way.

“I asked if you want to kiss me.” Something other than innocence lines your voice. And it pets Shoko’s flame

“I—I uh. M-. Yes.”

“So kiss me.”

Only one second of shocked hesitation passes before Shoko crashes her lips into yours.

Of course your lips taste like this. Marshmallow soft. Cotton candy sweet. Mini explosions of pleasure surge in all directions of her body.

“God,” Shoko groans, bringing the back of your head impossibly closer to her.

Melting into the soft hills and rolls of your sweet tongue. Shoko whines into your mouth like the desperate puppy she is. She’s drunk. Intoxicated. And it has nothing to do with the wine.

Do you know that?

Have you always known?

How does anyone ever make it out of their embrace with you with their wits about them?

“Baby,” you sigh into Shoko’s swollen lips.

Her hands tremble against your waist. Twitching to explore. Dying to map every inch of your body.

She lets out little, staccato moans of protest when you pull away.

“Feel better?”

Your starry eyes sparkle between Shoko’s. Sleepy, pretty smile playing on your puffy lips.

Shoko nods wordlessly. You’ve already stolen her logic and her heart. Might as well add her voice to the list.

You place a chaste kiss on Shoko’s lips before cocooning underneath the sheets.

Like you didn’t just make her fall in love.

“Goodnight, baby.”

PART. II

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 13.5k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D

[ RETURN TO PART ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ TWO ]

viii. I LOVE YOU LIKE A DRUG

november has a harsh cold to it that goes right through the skin of your cheeks. with your long black coat and matching gloves, you walk through the city, heading towards your lawyer’s office.

it’s been a few days since you last saw or talked to mingyu. you’ve been thinking about the kiss constantly, unable to stop it from clouding your mind. it’s hard to believe you hated his guts for years and completely changed your opinion on him within months — he took you by surprise on that. which you’re not sure how you feel about.

it’s as if his handprints were etched into your skin. you can still remember exactly how it felt, where they were. more importantly, perhaps, you know what your mind keeps leading to when the memory runs through your head.

that you want nothing more than for him to put his hands on you again. you want him so much that you have to clench your fists and tell yourself to get it together.

the universe must like to mess with you, as you receive a text from him at that exact moment. stopping in your tracks on the street, you’re just about to read it when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

once you’ve looked up from your phone, you see the devil himself standing there with a meek little smile on his face, which has you scoffing when he greets you. “hi.”

his dark hair is slicked back as he sports a thick winter jacket, jeans and black shoes. god, he’s handsome. why is he so annoying?

instead of responding to his greeting, you just speak your mind. “what’re you doing here?”

“chan mentioned you had an appointment in the neighborhood, so here i am. i wanted to see you.”

“why?”

“what, am i not allowed to visit my partner in crime?”

you purse your lips. “i thought we both agreed on discretion regarding our relationship.”

“and what kind of relationship is that?”

“an understanding.” your response comes out colder than anticipated, but you stick with it. “look, gyu, what we did… we probably shouldn’t do it again.”

he seems surprised. and a little disappointed, which he hides very quickly, but not quick enough.

so he pouts at you, doing his best not to dwell on it. “okay. any particular reason?”

you inhale sharply, trying to give him the best possible excuse you can come up with. “we agreed to keep it professional, didn’t we?”

“we did.” he nods, speaking in a way as if he were focusing on something else. “is that all there is to it? or do you have another reason?”

his gaze is playful, which makes you smile as you look down at your feet for a moment. “i’m sure you can fill the blanks.”

“interesting choice of words.”

“god, you’re such a perv.”

mingyu laughs when you punch his shoulder, his hand comfortable on your lower back. you don’t swat it away, utterly contradicting your previous words, but you can’t find it in yourself to care that much.

two days later, you’re over at his apartment, continuing your research where you left off last week, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining things, but it feels like there is a palpable tension in the air. soft rain taps against the windows while you’re looking at some security footage his friend seungkwan sent over about an hour ago.

with the two of you sitting beside eachother as you’re looking at the screen of your laptop, you find it difficult to focus on the footage, because you feel electrified by his mere presence. it’s ridiculous. he accidentally brushes your knee with your hand, and you feel a rush going through your body. a candle is lit on the table — his tan skin looks beyond beautiful, his brown eyes piercing through yours like never before.

you want him.

you. want. him. and no one else.

it’s driving you nuts, and as if he can read your mind, he begins to talk about it.

“i haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss.”

while the footage keeps playing in the background, you bite your lip, sucking in a breath. “gyu.” you say his name in a near scolding manner.

“do you like me?” he suddenly turns his head to face you, which feels borderline intrusive. like he’s able to see everything that’s going on in your head and heart.

it steals your breath, making your voice sound somewhat strained as a result, and you can’t even bring yourself to lie about it any longer. “i might.”

“i like you. a lot.” he says, and when you think he’s getting closer to you, you stand up from your seat, doing whatever you need to do to get it back together. you don’t want him to know how you really feel, so you clench your fists in your place, your back facing him.

“what does it matter? we’re nothing more than partners. that’s all there is to it.”

as you shake your head to yourself, he gets up as well, moving to stand behind you. “is that why you kissed me?”

“it was just the heat of the moment.”

“you’re a good liar — but not that good.” mingyu shamelessly eyes your body up and down, and when you look over your shoulder, he meets your gaze with something that appears to resemble pride, in a way.

arrogance, perhaps.

for whatever reason, that ticks something off in you. “you want me to be honest? fine. i don’t want to like you, mingyu. i didn’t want to enjoy that kiss. i’ve spent years hating you to the bone, and changing that opinion on you feels like betraying myself.”

he blinks at your sudden and blunt confession, but it’s honest and clear to him.

then he nods in understanding.

“just… hypothetically, if i said i wanted to kiss you again, what would you do?”

you notice a clear difference in his tone, his breathing, his eyes dropping down to your lips — oh, he’s fucking turned on. he knows you want him as badly as he wants you. you both know it.

“i’d tell you it was a one-time thing.”

he gets closer to you, eyelids hanging low and the hint of that damn smirk tugging at his mouth. “how about one more? for good measure. just to get our rocks off.”

the proposition is almost laughable, yet you selfishly find yourself agreeing. “just once?”

“just once.” the palm of his hand cups your jaw, and you know you’re done for when you lean in first, causing him to smile triumphantly right before his lips lock with yours.

this is what you’ve both been yearning for the past week. now that you have it, it feels like drugs, almost — addicting.

you kiss him with vigor, and his tongue slips into your mouth, leaving you aching for more. it’s when his hand pulls you closer by your waist that you force yourself to back away from him, both you and him gasping for air.

“gyu, we were supposed to—”

“keep things professional, i know,” he breathes out, his forehead resting against yours as if he has to make the biggest decision of his life, “but i don’t want to anymore.”

his hands are still on your waist, trailing down to the flesh of your upper legs, and he squeezes it, feeling sick at the idea of someone touching you there that’s not him.

“need you so bad. please — let me touch you.”

looking at his desperate form for a moment, you internally decide to go for whatever your body wants — and that’s to have him tonight.

so you roll your eyes, pulling him to you by his black t-shirt, your hands on the back of his neck before he can comprehend it. he hoists you up by the back of your thighs, taking you to his spacious bedroom.

your back touches the soft bed within seconds. his hands continue to glide up and down your body, and he subtly puts his one hand underneath the hem of your shirt, fingers touching your warm skin, and you almost forget to breathe.

mingyu feels your fingers pulling at the waistband of his jeans, and he relishes in how eager you are. he kisses your neck and moves lower painfully slowly, causing you to writhe underneath him, because you need him now.

it’s certainly a first for you to have such a need and desperation to fuck someone. and for him, of all people. if you had known about this in the morning, you wouldn’t have believed it.

but then again, the tension has been brewing between you two for years, reaching its highest point over the last couple weeks.

maybe he was onto something when he suggested for you to fuck him back in the strip club.

his lips are touching your bare stomach, and you show a hint of dominance by undoing the buttons of your pants and shoving down your panties, putting your hand on his head to guide it between your legs.

and he just lets you.

he takes your pants and underwear from your ankles and discards the pieces on the floor, hands on the back of your thighs once more as he pushes them to lean over his shoulders.

the first few seconds are spent basking in his excitement. his heart races when he looks you in the eye, and he grins to himself before diving in.

for some reason, he feels this primal urge to prove himself to you, to make you feel good like no one ever has before.

whatever the hell it is that made him have such a massive change of heart, he doesn’t know.

but he does know one thing — he worships the ground you walk on.

so to hear you gasp and whine for him when he eats you out only spurs him on to keep going, to make it dirtier and messier and keep having you moan his name.

mingyu encourages you to pull on his hair, and with each strand being pulled, he grows harder in his pants. he moans at the pain, humming against your pussy while his tongue is buried inside you.

you’re grinding against his face and he hums again, loving the feeling. “rub it in my face, baby, ‘s so good—” he babbles as his cock is rock-hard and throbbing against the fabric of his jeans, and he rubs his hard-on against the matress to get any kind of friction.

over the course of the years, even while hating him, you wondered if he was good in bed.

you didn’t think your question was going to be answered by first-hand experience.

he’s not only sickeningly good at providing pleasure — he seems to get off on it, too. your fingers clamp on his long strands of hair, thighs around his head, almost suffocating him, and even when you hit your first climax, he just keeps going. his tongue moves as if you’re not completely crumbling before him.

with a sudden sensitivity hitting you, you have to pull his face from your pussy, and he looks at you with lust-blown eyes and your wetness smeared over his lips and chin.

yeah, you fucking like him. jesus.

the little fang-shaped teeth he has show themselves when he grins at the mess he’s made of you. “want me to go again?”

“would you?”

“i’d keep going for hours if that’s what you want.”

pressing your lips together, you inhale deeply, ‘cause he looks like he means it, too. “well, as great as that sounds, i want you in me. now.”

he would’ve had a damn field trip eating you out again, but he certainly won’t complain, because he’s about to bust in his pants from just looking at you. his eyes return to your figure when you take your shirt off, dick twitching when you unclasp your lacy bra and show your completely bare body to him.

“are you just gonna keep staring?” you ask teasingly, and he needs a few seconds to get his brain running again, chuckling at your words before he removes his own clothes, pushing you back to lay you down.

“can’t help that i like what i see.”

you’re about to give him a witty retort in return when you feel the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole, pushing forward just the slightest bit, and your lashes flutter at the sensation. he bites his lower lip at the feeling, a sudden intensity hitting the both of you.

then he pushes himself inside, inch by inch, achingly slowly. your brows scrunch together and you throw your head back, manicured nails digging into his bedsheets.

“hah—gyu—” you mumble, tension setting into your shoulderblades as he stretches you open, and you’re so tight that he feels just as suffocated as you do.

“fuck, you’re fucking tight.” he huffs out, utterly savoring your wetness wrapping around him. “can i keep going?”

at hearing the question, a breathy laugh escapes you. “how fucking big are you to have to ask that?”

“well, ‘m only halfway in right now, baby.”

fucking hell. the look on your face is borderline horrified, because jesus, you’re gonna need to adjust to him.

he lowers his chest to hover above yours, and your hands immediately move to his back, nails aching to dig into his skin. he’s only focused on your face now, and he pushes himself in all the way, watching your face contort in pain and pleasure.

your body stiffens for a second before it relaxes, and he has to hold down the urge to start moving. “that’s it. took me all the way in,” he mutters, and you nod to yourself, accidentally clamping down on him, at which he groans.

the first movements are small, slow — gentle. you release long, dragged-out moans that are the single hottest thing he’s ever heard. but he needs more, needs to get rid of the little voice in his head to fuck you hard and stupid.

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back in, and the erotic whine you let out is just too good to his ears.

so he does it again, again, again. he fucks you to the point a different part of him takes over, ruthlessly seeking the pleasure and pain that gets him off like nothing else. he likes it fast, hard, and deep, and by the looks of it, you do too.

you’re clinging onto him with every thrust, every kiss, every moan, and he loves it.

mingyu moans, eyebrows knitted together as he’s hypnotized by the feeling of himself sheathed all the way inside you. “take it — take my fucking cock.”

“mhm. a little harder — please?” you beg, and if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he certainly is now. how on earth do you look as gorgeous as you do whilst half fucked-out, still needing more?

naturally, he gives in to you, doing whatever you ask of him. he fucks you harder, his grip on your waist tightening with each thrust.

you come to one conclusion — you don’t think anyone’s ever fucked you this good.

his mouth latches onto your tits, sucking at your nipples, and you bring his head up to kiss him again. it’s sloppy, and his movements begin to slow a little, your wetness dripping down his cock. “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

“want more, gyu. i want you to cum in me.”

“you—” he stutters out, “you want it?”

nodding at him, you even push yourself against him, his cock sinking just a little deeper into you.

so he fucks you as hard as he can until he feels himself hitting that blissful climax, continuing to roll his hips and stuff you as full of him as possible. then he sits up with a thin layer of cold sweat on his back, and he pulls himself out as slowly as he entered you, watching drops of cum seep out of your hole.

“so much for professional.” you breathe out, after which you both chuckle, and he leans in to kiss you again, and you get on top of him, taking charge, and he shivers in anticipation.

the night becomes an increasing blur with every kiss, every touch, every thrust — it’s hard to say what time it is or how many times you’ve gone at it when you finally let yourself sink into a deep sleep.

when you wake up beside him in the morning, you watch his sleeping form, your heart flutters.

it’s bizarre how he’s made you feel a kind of love you didn’t even know existed before. a feeling of great complexity and intensity that’s settled deep into your gut whenever he’s near.

as if he’s become a part of you that you can’t let go.

checking your phone, you know it’s time to get up, since you’ve got an important agenda today. yet when you try to silently slip away from his bed, you feel a warm hand on yours.

“don’t go.” he pleads, his voice lower and raspier than usual from sleeping. there’s a certain desperation in his now open eyes, and it affects you.

“i have to. appointments i can’t cancel, you know what that’s like—”

but he’s not talking about your day.

“i’m afraid of people leaving me,” he suddenly admits with a shaky tone, “and i like what we have. i like you. i guess i’m scared that… this was just a one-time thing, ‘cause it wasn’t for me. i don’t want to go back to what we were before all of this.”

processing his words, you nod, touching his cheek, reassuring him. “it wasn’t a one-time thing for me, either. you have me, i promise.”

“okay.” he gently smiles at you, his fingers caressing yours, and you lean in to press a kiss onto his lips, which he immediately reciprocates.

you give him a quick goodbye after putting your clothes on, and he’s left smiling to himself in bed while you walk out of his apartment with the same expression.

but you should know by now that all good things come to an end — one way or another.

ix. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

the two weeks since your first time sleeping together have been nothing but excitingly ignorant bliss. in between his meetings and family commitments and your meetings regarding your father’s business relations, you’ve been meeting eachother in the middle at every opportunity, the investigation of your father’s death fading into the background bit by bit, getting lowered on your list of priorities.

none of your friends are aware of your relationship – since it’s a secret, and neither of you have really labelled it yet – as far as you know, anyway.

being with him is comfortable to you, and surprisingly enough, he’s the first person who’s made you feel like you could breathe properly after the chaos that your father’s death caused.

“do you really have to go out at this hour?”

“yeah, unfortunately.” he presses a kiss to your lips before pulling his shirt on while you’re still naked on his bed. “i’ll be back as soon as i can, but you don’t have to wait for me, okay? it’s probably gonna take a while.”

with a sigh, you nod, pouting a little. “okay. i’ll probably go take a shower and head home after.”

he kisses the top of your head this time, and it all feels awfully domestic.

but it’s a good feeling.

mingyu takes in the sight of your bare face and body covered in nothing but his sheets, and he feels like things were meant to be like this. like you two were always indirectly tied together, and now this is your reality.

“you’re allowed to stay as long as you want. i’ll call you later, baby, yeah?” he hums against your lips, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to pull his shirt off and drag him back into bed with you.

“mhm. you should go, or you’ll be late.”

he chuckles, his mouth grazing the top of your hand before he exits the room, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving you alone in his apartment.

after taking a short nap, you decide to get up and take a quick shower.

this might be the first time you’re completely on your own in his place — so you feel like checking out what he’s got lying around here.

it’s not because you don’t trust him, truly. you just like to snoop around a little, out of curiosity.

you peek into his drawers, his closet, his personal things, except for what he’s got kept under lock and key.

what intrigues you are the clear scratches on the floor by the cupboard. everything in his apartment is perfectly clean and clearly well taken care of, so this makes you raise a brow.

you figure the scratches were made by moving the cupboard to the side, so you do the same thing, trying to see if there’s a particular reason for it.

it’s hard to contain a scoff once you lay your eyes on what is apparently hiding behind it.

a safe hidden behind a cupboard. seriously? did he take inspiration from your father’s office or something? this is starting to get a bit weird.

the safe seems to require a code with six digits to be unlocked, and since the system and mechanics seem on the older side, you doubt it would send off any signals if someone tried out a wrong code.

biting your lip, you give in to your curiosity, and try out a few codes.

a popular choice for codes are always birthdays, often loved ones, and since mingyu is a complete softie in that regard, you figure it might be worth trying out.

you remember his father’s birthday from the tombstone at the graveyard where your father was buried as well. his mother celebrated her birthday last week, so that’s easy.

unfortunately, neither of the codes work.

fuck, what was his sister’s birthday again? you don’t remember. then an idea pops up in your head – she probably made a birthday post on social media at some point. you search the username and scan her profile, and within a minute, you’ve found it.

with your phone in hand, eyes going from the screen to the rotating dials, you enter the code, and the sound of a clicking lock causes your heartbeat to quicken.

it worked.

throwing your phone onto the bed, you open the safe, several items catching your eye.

there’s quite some things in there considering it’s such a small space. some stacks of money, a few vials with clear liquids in them, a gun, a passport with his photo but a different name – what the fuck is this? his backup plan to start a new life in case he needs it? that’s close to paranoid, especially for a guy who seemingly has no enemies.

behind the piles of dollar bills, you find a few old-fashioned cassette recorders stacked up, each of them numbered from one to ten.

as your curiosity gets the better of you once more, you take the recorders out of the safe and put them on the floor, where you sit down to listen to whatever’s on them.

you click the button at the back of the device, noise beginning to crack through the small speaker.

“i know recording myself confessing to something as grave as this could be my downfall, but… it’s something i need to get off my chest. i need to.” your hear him inhale sharply. “i’m setting a plan in motion that will lead to someone’s death. it’s not something i’m proud of, but he’s threatening my family. i don’t know what else to do.”

your eyes widen as you listen to the rest of the tape. he’s talking about killing your father, using a poison to take him out. once it’s finished, you look for the second tape with shaky fingers.

“getting it done shouldn’t be hard. the real issue is having an alibi, and if necessary, i need someone to put the blame on. the death of someone as important as him will draw attention, so should they assume he didn’t die of natural causes, they’re gonna want to convict someone. i can only think of one person who fits the criteria — his daughter.”

it’s like the confirmation you’ve been waiting for. this is what he’s been hiding all this time. of course he didn’t want to help you without an ulterior motive.

your heart breaks the moment he says it. just how much of a fool have you been?

“we’ve always hated eachother. looking back, i’m not sure how it started, but it did. she’s the only one who could have a solid motive. i don’t want to frame her, or anyone for that matter, but if the police decide it’s not an accident, i’ll have no other choice. maybe her lawyer can find a way around it.”

tape three.

“the plan is to pretend i have a lead on the killer when i’m actually planting fake evidence to make her seem like the culprit. i talked to her in the graveyard today, but she completely lashed out at me. it’s hard to tell who she hates more — me, her father, or herself. though i didn't know her hatred for me ran this deep, nor that she was this lonely. i kind of feel for her.”

tape four.

“she just agreed to be my date to the gala next week, though she's certainly not thrilled about it. understandably so, i guess. she's quite intimidating when she’s mad. maybe i should take notes, seeing how she always stands so firmly on business.”

tape five.

“i didn’t think she’d go as far as to go through my room. she’s more determined than i gave her credit for. god, i could barely keep it together when she said whoever killed her father did her a favor. it’s maybe the only good thing about this whole mess. i wanted to scream, tell her that it was me who did her that favor.”

tape six.

“leave it to her to interrupt a stripper’s lap dance and take me with her instead. the man taking money out of her father’s account was hired by me — i needed to subtly prove to her that it couldn’t have been me, ‘cause i was at the other side of the city when it happened. i was curious to see if she’d take the bait, and she did. she mentioned something about wanting someone who would let her be… uninhibited. it scared and surprised me; mostly because i want the exact same.”

tape seven.

“we broke into her father’s office together. it was… thrilling. exciting. she keeps surprising me with how daring she is. somewhere underneath that hard surface hides someone who’s aching for adventure, i think. maybe we’re more similar than i thought. and she’s so clever, i just—i like her. like, platonically, of course. we work well together. i should probably be more careful, try not to get too close. who knows what that might lead to.”

tape eight.

“i kissed her. i fucking kissed her. well, she kissed me first, but… i kept it going. not just a little peck, no, a full-on makeout session. it was… the type of kiss they talk about in the romance novels. i’ve never felt that big of a need to kiss someone before. and she’s so gorgeous, too. i wonder if she’s thinking about it as much as i am right now.”

tape nine.

“wonwoo says i have feelings for her, in a way. i… i feel like there’s no going back if i acknowledge it. but there's something about her, it's like... i'm not sure. like she and i are on the same wavelength. we’re so different yet so similar.”

tape ten.

“the police are tightening their grip. they wanna name the culprit, and fast. i’ve thought of turning myself in, but i’ll ruin the family name if i do that. my mom and sister will be cast out if that happens. and then there’s… her. god, she’s become so special to me. i can’t go through with it — i can’t. the idea of losing her makes me feel suffocated. fuck, i don’t know what to do.”

and just like that, you close your eyes for a moment.

everything falls into place.

putting the final tape to the side, your cheeks are wet from the tears that have been silently rolling down your cheeks ever since you hit the first play button.

he doesn’t really like you — of course he doesn’t. he’s just using you for his own gain, to cover up his crime.

it’s then that the heavy sobs come out. you utterly fall apart, feeling weak and manipulated and alone.

terrifyingly alone, more than ever before.

but you force yourself to stop crying by telling yourself that you won’t allow him to use you anymore. you need to be steps ahead of him now that he’s not aware of you knowing this information, so you wipe your tears away and play all the tapes again, but this time with your phone making recordings of each one of them.

overcome by your emotions, you feel ready to throw up.

whatever you’re about to do, it’ll probably come back to bite you in the ass later, but you don’t care. not anymore. everything’s already gone to hell anyways.

when mingyu arrives at his apartment a few hours later, it’s empty. he frowns when noticing that your clothes and things you had lying around are all gone, but shrugs it off, believing you probably had a good reason for taking them back home.

but when he calls you the next day, you don’t pick up. you don’t answer any of his texts. your staff by the gate tells him that no visitors are allowed into the driveway, meaning he can’t even get to your front door anymore.

something’s happened. he just doesn’t know what.

long after he’s had his dinner, the rain comes pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance as you make your way to the front door of mingyu’s apartment.

he instantly notices something is very wrong once he lays eyes on you. you look like you’ve just gone through hell and back.

you let yourself in before he can say anything, so he closes the door behind you, confusion painted across his face. “i’ve been calling you — what’s going on? did something happen?”

oh, the question immediately pisses you off even more than you already are. this is about to be fun. “well, you’d know.” you grumble.

“know what?”

“that you killed my fucking father.”

the words strike like lightning. you finding out about the truth certainly wasn’t part of the plan, and since you seem so convinced, he doesn’t have much faith in trying to convince you of his innocence.

when his surprised expression fades, you finally see the truth written all over his face. his jaw is clenched tight, lips pressed together into a thin line, and he suddenly looks very guilty. “how… how did you find out?”

“the tapes. who the fuck records their own confession to murder? were you trying to get me to find out?” you rhetorically ask, eyes blazing fire.

mingyu huffs to himself. he knew he shouldn’t have kept those tapes — fuck.

“look, i—” he swallows, attempting to mend the situation, but you don’t let him speak.

“no. you’re going to tell me exactly what you did and why you did it. you owe me that much.”

he flinches, closing his eyes for a moment, lowering his head, his way of showing he accepts his defeat. “your dad… i always thought he wanted me around because he liked me, but after all those years, that turned out to be a lie. i found out he was blackmailing my mom with evidence of my father’s wrongdoings before his passing — fraud, embezzlement, all of that. we’re talking millions of dollars here. the damage it would’ve done to my family if that ever came out… it’s something i had to prevent. hell, i wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one behind my dad’s car accident. so i did what i thought was necessary.”

you can only scoff. “of course. how noble of you.”

“i’m sorry.” he tells you, but it’s a lie. your father was a despicable man, loved by no one. not really, anyway.

“if you’re going to lie to me, at least do it well.” you scold him, turning away from him for a moment, looking at the rain outside through the large windows of his apartment. “how did you kill him? i wanna hear you say it.”

“can’t we talk about—”

interrupting him, you turn around, the pistol from his safe in your hand, and it’s pointed at him. he anxiously awaits your next move.

“don’t make me ask again. i don’t particularly feel like repeating myself.”

he shudders at the view of the gun pointed at him, but does what you tell him to. “i poisoned him. he had no idea, didn’t suspect me at all. i told him to go home, so he’d die there.”

“where i would be, too. perfect plan, huh?”

“the plan was to make it look like a death from natural causes. the poison would be out of his system by the time the authorities were to perform the autopsy on his body — but then they found him dangling from the ceiling instead. that wasn’t my doing, so i figured the poison got to him to the point he wanted a quicker way out. you were there, with a reasonable motive. i panicked and made a choice.”

inhaling sharply, your eye twitches. “you chose to frame me.”

“i was going to.”

“oh, give me a break. don’t start acting like you care about me, now.”

“except i do. it was different in the beginning — but then i just—i didn’t remember why i hated you. i couldn’t even fathom a possible reason to. i started liking being around you, and you felt it too. i know you did, you said it yourself.” he pleads, getting closer to you, not giving a damn that the barrel of the gun is touching his chest at this point.

a tear escapes your eye, but your anger is still there. “you know what the thing is, mingyu? i don’t even care that you killed him. hell, if you had come to me after our interrogations and confessed that it was you, i would’ve thanked you. what i care about is that you took advantage of me when i was vulnerable, and that you made me feel like i mattered to you when you were all just doing it for your own gain.”

it’s like you’ve ripped his heart out of his chest. he wishes he could make you understand that you’ve made him feel more alive than anyone he’s ever met, that you’ve grown to mean so much to him in a ridiculously short span of time. that he’d go to hell and back to protect you now.

“you matter to me. more than anyone else.”

all you can do is let out a sarcastic fit of laughter; you don’t trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. “i need you to tell me something. did you sleep with me because you actually wanted to or because you felt like you had to in order to manipulate me to get closer to you?”

he seems appalled at what you’re implying. “of course i wanted to. all i ended up wanting was you—”

“don’t you fucking lie to me!” you burst out angrily, at which he flinches, but his frustration brings him to confess his true feelings.

“it’s not a lie, because i’m in love with you!” he raises his voice in desperation, “i don’t care if you shoot me right here, right now. it won’t change how i feel about you.”

your heart shatters even more, because he sounds so genuine, yet it doesn’t make you feel the way it should.

the words should probably bring some kind of twisted comfort, but they feel like a gut punch instead. you grab your chest to stop yourself from hyperventilating. “at least i was right at the beginning. the golden boy is a fucking murderer. you’ve played your part well, i gotta admit.”

he watches you breathily laugh and cry at him, and all he can do is stare back at you with teary eyes and a guilty face.

“please don’t say that.”

“why? does it hurt, hearing the truth?”

“i swear to you—”

you shut him up by pushing him backwards with the pistol against his chest. “you know, when you bothered me after the funeral, when i had my breakdown, i wanted nothing more than to cave in your skull with a rock. looking back, i should’ve just done it. would’ve spared me this whole mess.”

surprisingly enough, you simply put the pistol back in your jacket pocket, but mingyu is just as if not more afraid of you. your gaze is the harshest, coldest, meanest he’s ever seen it. all you do is look at him and he crumbles.

and yet he still wants you. he knows you hate him to the bone, you detest every part of him, and he still. wants. you.

and he intends to show you that, because he’s willing to throw every last shred of pride and dignity he has let out the window if it means you’ll show him you want him even the smallest bit. “i’ll prove it to you. if you ask me to turn myself in, i’ll turn myself in. i’ll do it, for you.”

god, he seems so genuine in it, too.

your breaths are ragged, and you feel like you need to get literally anywhere else, out of the suffocation that is this room with him in it. you barely even noticed he’d taken a hold of your hand until now.

“i can’t do this. just—just let me leave.”

he does.

the moment the door slams shut behind you, he has to grab the nearest object to hold himself up, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened.

x. WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER?

the following days are spent anxiously pacing in his apartment. what is he supposed to do? what should he say to you? what should he tell the press, that he’s innocent? guilty? what should he tell his family? that he killed a man to protect them and their reputation? would they even look him in the eye if he confessed?

he waits and waits and waits for his arrest to come, for the police to barge into his home and take him away to a cold, dark prison cell — yet the day never comes.

personally, he wonders if you’re waiting it out to make you feel as shitty as you’ve probably been feeling since the day you discovered his true colors.

nearly a week after the fight between you, he decides he can’t take it anymore. he needs to see you.

you doubt you’ve ever felt as miserable as you’ve felt these past days. it’s like you’re torn between hating mingyu for taking advantage of you and hating yourself for being stupid enough to fall for it. to fall for him.

because no matter how much you want to deny it, you did.

something you desperately needed was a distraction, which is why you ended up accepting wonwoo’s invitation to the event his father is hosting tonight at his estate just outside the city. with your little black dress on and hair perfectly styled, you down a glass of champagne next to wonwoo, who looks a bit concerned. “everything okay?”

the noise of chatter and soft music in the background only overwhelms you more. “yeah. i just… haven’t had alcohol in a while.” you mutter a bullshit excuse, not really caring whether you sound believable or not.

“i get it if you don’t feel like being here right now, with everything that happened recently. i can take you home if you want.”

“and miss out on your father’s celebration?”

“there will always be another one.” wonwoo shrugs, looking at you like nothing else in the room matters. he has a little smile playing on his lips that’s far too gentle — you almost feel undeserving of a gaze that loving.

but you don’t hold eye contact with him for long, because the source of all your current problems suddenly walks into the room — and he looks good. criminally good.

the red suit with its low neckline draws even more attention to him than usual, along with several expensive pieces of jewelry adorning his wrists and fingers.

“he’s here? that’s strange. he said he wasn’t coming.” wonwoo mumbles, and you do your best to keep your composure and hide the sudden anxiety that blooms in your chest.

“shame. the party was just getting good.” you scoff to yourself, replacing your empty champagne glass with a full one.

it’s then that mingyu’s eyes find yours, and even while politely saying hello to the elders greeting him, he keeps sneaking a peek your way, as if to try to get away from the people surrounding him to get to you.

oh, fuck no. you’re not in the mood to talk to him right now.

“i’m just gonna go and use the restroom, okay? i’ll be right back.” you say to wonwoo, hoping to find yourself a spot in the shadows where you can properly get some air.

you hardly catch his response as your legs are already moving on their own, as far away from the man in red as possible.

passing through a quiet hallway, you find yourself finally alone at the bottom of a staircase, and with no one else around, you sit down on the first few steps, a sigh escaping your mouth.

“did my appearance surprise you?”

as you recognize his voice, your blood runs cold.

looking behind you, he’s standing at the top of the stairs, his hands in his pockets. he appears surprisingly relaxed, even if his fingers slightly tremble against the fabric of his trousers.

“you have some nerve showing up here.”

mingyu purses his lips. “why don’t you come up a couple steps?”

when you finally meet his gaze, his heart skips a beat. your brows are knitted together. “why would i do that?”

“because we’d be on the same level. equals.”

“is that what you want?”

“i think you already know the answer to that.”

biting your lip to yourself, you get up on your feet, heels clicking on the creaking wood with each step. once at his level, you look at him with hostility – he only shows intrigue.

“why haven’t you given me up yet? it’s been a week.”

“i have my reasons.” you shrug, the anger remaining in your features. “what? scared i’ll ruin your reputation?”

his tone suddenly changes into something more desperate, emotional. “i just want to know what you’re gonna do. if you wanna turn me over to the police, fine. but do something, please—”

“you’re not in a position to be making demands.”

“i’m not demanding, i’m asking.”

“go fuck yourself, mingyu.” you snap at him, looking around you before lowering your voice. “what did you think was going to happen when you came here tonight? that i would just let you in on everything? the last thing i owe you is an explanation.”

as the tension continues to rise between you, the argument causes you to step closer to eachother.

his chest heaves out of frustration, because you make a more than valid point, but he still has his own interests at heart. “i know that.”

“so then why show up tonight? don’t bullshit me, i know you’re not here for wonwoo.”

“are you? what are you doing here?”

“what the hell is your problem?” scoffing at him, you intend to push him by his chest, but he grabs your wrists instead.

“you are my problem.” he breathes out angrily as if he were confessing his sins, his hands remaining on your skin. “everything fell apart because of you.”

“if you’re actually trying to pin this on me, i’ll hit you in your fucking jaw until it bleeds.”

he only pulls you closer. “and i’d let you. do you still not get it?”

his grip on your wrists falters, and he softly rubs over your skin with his finger, and you hate your body for reacting to it.

christ, you think to yourself, has he been standing this close to you this whole time?

the smell of his perfume plagues your senses, and a feeling you can’t quite place washes over you when you catch him looking at your lips, and you realize his one hand is slowly gliding past your waist.

are you really going to let yourself fall into his trap again?

“everything okay?”

the words aren’t uttered by you nor mingyu — wonwoo peers up at you from your former spot at the bottom of the stairs.

of course he’s been sensing that there was something going on between you the moment you showed up at the strip club, but this clearly confuses him, since you’re still supposed to hate one another.

fuck. how much of the conversation did he hear?

mingyu hesitantly releases his hands from your body, and you take a step backwards, both of you focusing on wonwoo. “yeah, i’m fine.”

as if to make the situation even worse, the fucking inspector that’s leading the investigation appears behind wonwoo, curiously looking at his two main suspects standing side by side.

the situation feels suffocating. wonwoo points at the older man, “he was looking for you. that’s why i came to see if you were here — i didn’t know you were, um — occupied.”

“i’m not occupied.” with the way you completely disregard mingyu’s existence, it’s almost as if he weren’t even here. you make your way down the steps, smoothening over the fabric of your dress and taking a deep breath to get a hold of yourself again.

the inspector glances at mingyu one last time before asking you if he can talk to you privately, which you agree to.

mere minutes later, you’re standing in a secluded room, far away from the rest of the crowd, arms crossed over your chest, a dim light flickering on the ceiling above you.

“i wanted to talk about the investigation.”

“talking to me off-record again? this isn’t a good look on you.” you sneer at the man, who puts up his hands before his chest.

“i know. but it’s for a good reason.” he defends himself, at which you frown. “i have a proposition for you.”

“which is?”

“i need your help catching the person who killed your father.”

pursing your lips together, you let out a bitter chuckle. “like i would know anything—”

“you were just speaking to him, actually.”

the weight of his words makes your eyes widen. this is the first time he’s expressing who he believes is the culprit, after all these weeks.

your breath hitches in your throat. “you think mingyu is guilty.”

the inspector nods at the conclusion you’ve drawn. “he’s smart, i’ll give him that. but not invincible.”

“what will you do? do you have evidence against him?”

“i have enough that makes me sure that it was him, but not enough to defeat him in court. he’s rich and uses that to his advantage.” he explains, sounding almost hopeful. “so that’s where you come in.”

“me?”

“what i need is evidence that even he can’t work around, no matter how many people in the system he chooses to bribe. you told me the nature of your relationship was sexual — i don’t need to know if that’s true or not. but i’ve noticed he seems fond of you these days. you can use that to get him caught. we can’t let him get away with it.”

his voice rings through your ears, sounding like a convincing whisper. biting down on your tongue, you clench your fists, the predicament you currently find yourself in making you wish the ground would just swallow you whole.

you subtly glance down at your phone for a moment.

the evidence is right there, on the phone in your hand. you’ve recorded all the tapes with your phone — the confession, murder weapon — it’s all the evidence needed. you could give it right now and everything would be over.

yet not a single word comes out of your mouth.

the inspector sighs, offering you a final sentiment. “be careful with him. people can be deceiving.”

and with that, he exits the room, leaving you alone with the voice in your head.

your next moves are crucial. you know what you’re about to do is risky, but it’ll be worth it. it has to be worth it.

once you’ve left the inside of the estate through the backdoor, the event continues for the evening while you ponder over the choice you’re about to make in the backseat of the cab.

shrugging off your coat as you enter your home, you still in your movements when your eyes find the stairs — the spot where the police had to cut down your father’s cold, dead body.

with your gaze remaining on the former crime scene, you press on mingyu’s number to call it.

he picks up faster than lightning, but you don’t allow him to speak.

“meet me in the city tomorrow. 10:30, outside your mother’s firm. don’t be late.”

you hang up right after.

fuck, you should really sell this place. the fact that your father’s wandered around here is more than enough reason.

that he died here as well isn’t great either, but that’s really a minor detail.

with your arms crossed, you scoff, a half-smile that’s almost smug sitting on your face. “if only your death had welcomed us sooner.”

the next morning, you lean your head against the wall of the building you’re meeting at, a cold wind blowing through your hair as you’re sunken deeply into thought.

it’s comfortably quiet, honestly. you’re fond of this type of weather, the white, grey-ish sky, the breeze in the air, some rain on occasion.

you glance at the watch on your wrist — why the fuck is mingyu still not here? what possible reason could he have to be late when this is what he was practically begging for?

just as you’re about to grab your phone from your pocket to call him, someone pulls you by your arm and drags you into the alley beside the building.

“what the fuck!?” you huff out, and then you finally get a good look at the person who grabbed you.

of course it’s him.

“i’m sorry.” mingyu breathes out, his usually neatly styled hair now messy, several strands hanging loose in front of his forehead, the stress visible in his features.

to be together like this feels messy yet weirdly intimate. a few strands of your hair are caught between your lips, and you feel his breath on your face, his hands on your body, even your hands find their way back to him.

as if it’s natural.

“what the hell are you thinking?!” you hiss at him, pushing his hands off you, backing yourself as far up against the wall as possible.

“someone was following me, i was — i thought you’d lured me here to turn me in.”

“you—” is all you can push out of your throat before a sigh leaves you. of course he’d think that. god, what a mess.

burying your face in your hands, it feels like you’re both on the verge of a complete breakdown. both lost, not sure where to go, not sure what’ll happen next.

you thought you’d found a sense of direction in eachother, but that fell apart like a house of cards hit by the wind.

naturally, it begins to rain right when you’re talking to him outside. sighing to yourself, you gesture for him to come with you to your car in the half-empty parking lot, which he wordlessly agrees with.

it’s pouring by the time you’re both seated, the heavy rain rolling down the glass windows of the car.

it’s completely silent between you as you sit beside one another, staring dead ahead at the street.

your voice is hoarse when you tell him your verdict on the matter.

“we’re gonna cover it up.”

mingyu turns his head to look at you in disbelief, but you don’t move a muscle. “… what?”

“i believe i’ve told you i don’t like to repeat myself.”

“no one in their right mind would do that. no one would help me cover it up.” he exhales, eyes moving rapidly as he tries to process what you’re proposing to him.

“no one in their right mind would commit murder, either, but that certainly didn’t stop you.”

well, you have a point there.

“just tell me one thing,” mingyu asks, hoping you’ll look at him, “why? why do this for me?”

he could cry the moment you do meet his eyes. it’s like he sees a different version of himself staring back at him. “because you did the right thing. i would’ve done the same. well, except for your little affair with me.”

with his heart beating against his chest, he gently touches your hand. “everything i told you was true. it may not have been real in the beginning, and i’m sorry for pretending back then, but it’s real now. i swear that to you.”

you bite your lip. “give me one good reason why i should believe you.”

mingyu can taste his tears at this point. he needs you to believe him, he needs you — and that is terrifying but addictive. “the tapes. you can have them if you want.”

“i don’t need them. they hold no value to me.” you already made copies of them anyway.

“then what can i give you to prove myself?”

“nothing.” you immediately cut him off, eyes blazing fire, but even mingyu can see you do share that sadness that he does, mourning the loss of your connection. “from now on, we avoid contact over the phone as much as possible. you’ll destroy the tapes, the poison — get rid of all of it. we’ll work together until we’ve covered it up, and after that, it’ll be like whatever we had never existed. we’ll be nothing more than strangers to one another.”

“how on earth would we go back to strangers after what we did?”

“by never talking to eachother again.” you respond, swallowing the rising lump in your throat, fingers twitching from feeling suffocated. “get out. you can come over to my place tomorrow, and we’ll… figure out how to handle everything.”

mingyu looks at you, and he knows you won’t let him in again, certainly not now. so he nods.

he thinks of what to say, yet nothing comes out.

so he leaves you in your car without saying another word, walking away with nothing but his mistakes on his mind.

xi. I HATE YOU LIKE MY OWN REFLECTION

“so, what do we do now?”

“our best shot is to try to frame someone else, then take them out of prison after the conviction and pay ‘em good money for it.”

mingyu cocks a brow at your choice. “so you wanna go and do the exact same thing i wanted to do?”

you can’t help but glare at him. “yes, just without the manipulation. don’t think for a second i’ve forgiven you, or that i will in the nearby future, because i can assure you that won’t happen.”

well, so much for trying to get into your good graces again. “noted. so, how do we, um… find a suitable victim? someone who won’t rat us out.”

“my contact in the police force has sent me a list of all the other suspects. we pick someone, threaten to kill them if they don’t cooperate. easy.”

mingyu finds your lack of filter both intriguing and scary, like a switch was flipped and you’re suddenly ready to undertake even more violent measures than him. but then again, he was hiding quite some things too. “okay.”

it’s two days later when you’re holding a now former member of the housekeeping hostage in your spacious private parking garage.

“you can’t make me do this! this is insane!” he cries out, and you roll your eyes, holding the gun in your hand as easily as you’d carry a bottle of water.

you simply shrug. “it’s not impossible.”

“i’ll lose everything!”

“probably. but you’ll also gain a lot of money, enough to get you a comfortable life elsewhere in the world.”

“no, no, i’m not doing this. you can’t make me!”

mingyu looks to you for permission, you grant it with a nod, and he takes your gun to hit the guy in the face with it. you sink down to bend your knees, lowering to your victim’s level.

“i don’t think you get it. either you agree to do this, or you’re not making it out of these walls alive. trust me, if i have to shoot you, i will.” you sternly tell him, attitude changing from casual to threatening.

your partner in crime, who’s still holding the gun, is beyond impressed. he briefly thinks it over —has this part of you always been hiding underneath the surface?

“or maybe it’s your family i should start with? i’ll pick it apart, one by one.” you suggest, feigning innocence in your voice.

it’s then that the man is finally forced to accept your offer, after which you smile triumphantly and tell him he can go home like nothing happened. mingyu watches the change in your behavior, leaving him wondering how the hell you’re the same person he’s come to know over the past months.

but it hardly changes his now deeply-rooted affection for you.

a few days later, you’ve successfully orchestrated your plan and set it in motion, with the man from housekeeping supposedly coming forward with his confession tomorrow.

it’s late at night when mingyu’s still over at your house, and he asks if he can open the bottle of vodka standing on the counter.

“sure. whatever.” you mutter, the stand-offish demeanor you used to hold up around him before getting to know him having returned.

he doesn’t like it. no, scratch that — he can’t stand it.

so he pours you both a shot. “i’ve been thinking about something.”

“well, that must’ve been exhausting for you.”

hilarious. really. he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “in the car, you said i did the right thing. that you would’ve done the same.”

“and?”

“do you really not… hate me for killing him? at all?”

“no.”

“you hate me for… lying to you about it.”

“no.”

his brows knit together. “so…”

“again, don’t take this as a compliment, but i really thought you were smarter than this.”

“i’m just… confused on your stance on the whole thing. that’s all.”

taking a breath, a bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. “i hate it when people make fun of me, like — that’s the worst thing you could do to me. and you tried to get to know me, work with me, pretended to care for me, all while secretly knowing that it wasn’t genuine and you were going to put me in prison. and after i found out, it felt like you were just ridiculing me, for… i don’t know. giving in to you so easily. for being desperate to have at least one person actually care about me the way i thought you did.”

he processes your words with the heavy burden of guilt weighing on his shoulders, while you take another shot of alcohol.

well, he fucked up. miserably.

“when i created the plan to frame you, i… almost held a grudge towards you, like you did to me, for a reason i couldn’t even think of. i was going to be putting someone i hated in prison. a sacrifice i was willing to make for the people i loved. but you completely blew me away. as time progressed, i… couldn’t fathom i used to hate you, or even disliked you. even if you don’t accept my apology, i need you to know that i never… never made fun of you. and i’m sorry for hurting you in the way that i did.”

his heartfelt sentiment gets to you, and you hate it.

“even if i did accept your apology, what then? we’ll just move on with our lives as if this whole thing never happened either way.”

now that you’ve unintentionally given him a sense of hope, he downs another shot of vodka to give himself courage. “it doesn’t have to be like that.”

“what?”

“i still want you.” he breathes out, mentally saying fuck it and deciding to finally be completely honest with you.

the words seem to have caught you off-guard, after which you scoff at him once you realize what he’s saying. “you’re not serious.”

“i am,” he replies without hesitation, following you in your tracks when you stand up, “and you know what i think? you still like me, too.”

“no i don’t.”

now that you’ve turned around to him, you realize how stupid of a move it was to do so. with every step he takes forward, you go back, but there’s only so much room before you hit the wall. “you’re not being very convincing.”

“gyu—”

“i like it when you call me that.”

at a loss for words, you look behind you to find you’re nearly out of space. “i don’t like you.”

“and here i thought we were both being honest with eachother.”

god, all he does is look at you and you feel willing to let him touch you again. he made you feel so good — you liked him so much.

mingyu feels it. he sees you fighting with yourself in your head, so he figures all you need is just a little push to get you back where he had you, to be able to kiss you and hold you and call you his.

with his left hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and within a second, he’s pushed his mouth against yours.

fuck, it’s been only two long weeks since he last kissed you, but it felt like forever. this feeling, his touch — you doubt you’d ever be able to feel that with anyone else.

but something in you is still fighting back.

you muster the will to push mingyu away, and he licks his lips from the gloss on yours. both of you panting heavily, you shake your head. “no. we’re not doing this.”

“what? something we both want?” he breathes out, chest heaving up and down.

“something we shouldn’t.”

“why not?”

“because i’d never forgive myself for giving in to the guy who was gonna frame me for murder.”

he merely shrugs, downplaying the situation for his selfish interests. “we hated each other back then. you’d have done it too, you said it yourself.”

his words are true — but it still hurts.

“you’re a liar.” you say to him, and he knows you’re only saying it for one reason — to convince yourself to not give in to what you really want.

“yeah. and so are you.”

that is what momentarily causes your brain to shut down. “what?”

his hand cups your jaw. you can feel his breath on your bare skin, his gaze on your body, shamelessly checking you out before he meets your eyes again. “what we had was real. you make everyone else in my life seem like… nothing.”

“oh, so i’m special, huh? or are you just trying to get back into my good graces so i don’t rat you out?”

his eyes keep lingering on the skin of your cheeks, your neck, exposed collarbones, and he doesn’t even look you in the eye while answering. “you can do whatever you want. i’ll still want you once i’ve gotten out of prison.”

god. he’s really that into you?

“gyu…” you mutter, almost pouting, and he holds your face, nodding as if he understands.

“i know, i know—” his breathing is unsteady as he confesses every dirty little sin on his conscience, “i like being a little selfish, y’know? even when one of my friends mentioned something about liking you, i didn’t tell you, ‘cause i wanted you.”

you’ve got a feeling who he’s talking about. “so what’d you say to him?”

“i said you had something going on with someone else, which wasn’t exactly a lie, since you were on top of me that same night.” he barely allows himself to finish the sentence before kissing you again, putting all his vigor into it, and you decide to indulge both him and yourself this once.

he pushes you up against the wall, and you shove him away again, holding onto the cupboard beside you when you both catch your breath.

“what if i like him better than you?”

“you wouldn’t.”

“why? ‘cause you’re so likeable?”

“because he’d never accept you for who you really are, and you’d find him boring,” he tells you as a possessive streak overcomes him, “just like no other girl would ever want me and i only want you.”

“so i should let you have me because no one else will. what a compelling argument.”

“no. because you want me.” fucking hell, he’s pretty sure his sex drive has never been this high before. “so have me, baby. please — i’m all yours.” he rasps, pressing a kiss so chaste to your lips, they barely touch. his hands burn on your skin.

“maybe i will.” you mumble, which elicits the smallest smirk from him.

he rubs up against you. “you make me insane.”

“pretty sure you already were.” is the last thing you say before kissing him, finally giving in to the feelings you still hold for him.

the sudden motion takes him by surprise, but he regains his composure to kiss you back within seconds. you make him feel so sickeningly good, he practically worships the ground you walk on.

mingyu is always tactile, be it with his friends, family, or in this case — you. his hands are practically glued to your body, pulling you as close to him as possible.

and normally he likes to take his time when it comes to sex. but he’s just so hot right now that he needs some kind of friction, some kind of release. so he lifts you up to take you to your bedroom, where he wastes no time to plunge his fingers into you.

“fuck—gyu—”

this is all he wants. to hear you moan his name like that and watch you writhe underneath him while his cock throbs as he rubs it against the bed.

“you look so pretty like this.” he grins, curling his fingers to watch you squirm and feel you clench around him.

jesus, his pace is high. higher than any other time he’s done this before. the pressure in your stomach builds so fast that you’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling, at which you instinctively reach down to hold his wrist, but to no avail, because he keeps going.

“say you like me back and i’ll make you cum.”

even through the pleasure he’s giving you, you manage to pull your mean attitude back up. “are you that desperate?”

not only does he seem completely unaffected by the snark in your voice — he might even like it.

“so what if i am?” he shrugs, his fingers moving in and out of you while he kisses and sucks on the skin of your neck.

when he moves onto your jaw, he suddenly hits the right spot inside you, and your eyes roll back, a dragged-out moan escaping you.

“bet that feels good, hm?” he whispers, his fangs showing when he smiles slyly, “c’mon — say it. i’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

right after the words come out of his mouth, he threatens to take his fingers out, and you grab his wrist once more, this time to keep him as close as possible.

“fine — i like you.”

like a war general who just won his greatest battle, he’s beaming at your confession. “good. put your legs over my shoulders.”

well, he certainly is determined. he’s back in his previous position in no-time, now with your legs up, and you try to not clench your thighs around his head too much as his digits piston in and out of your hole.

your orgasm hits you within what feels like a minute, and mingyu keeps going even when your legs are shaking and trembling on his shoulders.

the drag of his cock inside you is heavenly. he’s a big man, and you always need to adjust yourself to him, but fuck is it good.

you always like the slower strokes best, he’s learned. slow and deep, to make you feel every inch of him, and he can bury himself in you to the hilt every single time.

“god, you’re always so tight.” he has to suck through gritted teeth to not completely lose it, ‘cause you’re clenching down on him so much that it almost hurts.

“that’s ‘cause you don’t fuck me enough.”

“we should fix that, then.” he responds, sliding his cock in and out of the pooling wetness between your legs, and as the minutes go by, you continue to find yourself in his arms, your body plastered on his.

it’s the ringing of your phone from the nightstand that pulls you out of the erotic haze.

mingyu turns his head to the side, the dark strands of hair hanging beside his head as he’s still hovering above you.

his chest still heaves when he picks up the device to show you the caller id. “you never did tell me what he wanted to talk to you about.”

all you can do is chuckle — a sound that comes across as if you know more than he does. “he’s onto you. thinks you’re guilty. not far from the truth, is he?”

throwing your phone to the other side of the bed, he pushes himself a little deeper into you, loving the way you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. “and he wanted you to give him evidence, i bet.”

“he did.”

“did you?”

“since you still have the freedom to fuck me — take a wild guess.”

this time it’s him who lets out an arrogant laugh. “i knew you liked me too much.”

“i could still do it, y’know.”

“oh, i know you could.” he bites his lower lip before kissing you so vigorously again — as if you’re the air he breathes.

xii. ROUGH HEWN BY UNFORTUNATE EVENTS, AND GIVEN BREATH BY NECESSITY

with the noise of the fireplace crackling, you stand by the window of your mansion’s spacious living room, staring outside as you’re anxiously rubbing your fingers over your collarbone.

the man you and mingyu forced to act like he was guilty of murdering your father has supposedly confessed yesterday morning, and yet you’ve still heard nothing. which is strange.

extremely strange.

“they could still be interrogating him.” mingyu tries to ease both your and his own nerves, but you shake your head, your back still facing him.

“something’s wrong. if it were convincing enough, i would’ve heard something. fuck.”

he gets up from the soft couch to wrap his arms around you from behind. “we just gotta be a little more patient. the guy knows what’s at stake should he mess it up.”

letting out a sigh, you nod. “yeah, i guess you’re right.”

just when he’s pressed a kiss on the top of your head, the doorbell rings — whoever that may be.

mingyu remains in his spot by the window while you go ahead to check who’s visiting you. your breath is almost stolen completely from you once you see who it is.

“coming to visit me at this hour?”

the inspector gives you a fake smile in return. “it’s important.”

so you let him in, keeping up the nonchalance in your attitude. mingyu raises a brow at the older man walking into the room, and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“i had someone coming into the station yesterday — one of your father’s former staff. he confessed to the murder.” the inspector begins. “unfortunately for him, i said i’d already figured out who the culprit was, and so i sent him back home.”

“someone confessed and you didn’t think about telling us?” mingyu questions angrily, and you really have to force yourself not to show how impressed you are with his acting skills.

the other man in the room is less impressed. “why would i tell you something you’re already aware of? you orchestrated it.”

oh, shit.

as your eyes widen, it’s quiet for a moment.

“i really hope you have actual proof to back this accusation.” mingyu sneers, clearly hostile towards the man while you silently take a few steps back, slowly hiding yourself more in the shadows by the walls.

“traces of poison were found in the reports of the autopsy. it was disregarded at first because of the small amount, but i eventually began to consider it evidence when i discovered you recently purchased that exact formula from a dealer who’s been on our radar for a while.”

the hairs on your neck suddenly stand upright. is this it? is the person you’ve grown so attached to actually going to get arrested?

“thing is, if i were to arrest you, you’d probably be let go. i know you both have contacts in the police force as well as the justice system, i almost caught someone messing with the autopsy results — but despite that, i know the truth.” the man nods to himself. “and that is, mr. kim, that the only charge against you is attempted murder.”

mingyu seems confused. “attempted?”

“the poison didn’t kill him. you’re guilty of something, definitely, but you’re no murderer.” the inspector’s gaze suddenly shifts from your partner to you, a deep frown setting into your forehead. “the only player in this game that wasn’t making any sense to me was you.”

“me?”

“you know, in my many years in this line of work, i’ve found it a rarity to have a suspect possessing such an… inscrutible expectant stillness. the gears in your head are constantly turning, but no one’s really sure what it is that goes up in there. you’re an enigma.” he says to you, and you listen to him with a raised brow.

as you remain silent, he continues. “at the event a few weeks ago, when i spoke with you, i came to you and told you i suspected him to be the culprit — the man you’ve hated from day one. the opportunity to make him go away was practically given to you, yet you did nothing with it.”

scoffing at him in disbelief, you tilt your head. “that’s all you have against me? baseless speculation?”

“not exactly baseless. see, the autopsy report showed one more thing — he was choked before the hanging. your father was unconscious before you put that rope around his neck.”

it’s so quiet, you’re pretty sure the two men in the room are able to hear your heartbeat at this point.

mingyu turns to look at you with a puzzled expression, and you finally decide to drop the façade you’ve upheld for so long.

“oh, so what?” you shrug, finding the accusation bothersome at best.

the sudden change in demeanor catches mingyu completely off-guard. he can’t fully comprehend what’s going on here. “you—you killed him?”

you press your lips together. “whatever you used on him wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to make him violent. he came home that night just—fucking losing it. stumbling over everything, his eyes were all red, and he yelled at me because he thought i was the one who poisoned him. ‘cause naturally, he’d never suspect you. my father was one to hit me on the cheek whenever he was really angry with me, but he’d never gone further than that. the poison must’ve worked him up so much that he lost rational thinking. so he began to accuse me of trying to kill him, after which he tried to choke me, but i managed to throw him off, and he passed out. and i figured it’d been enough of his torture, so… i hung him in the stairwell to make it seem like a suicide.”

the inspector nods knowingly. “you murdered him in cold blood.”

you’re quick to respond with your defense, though you don’t really care anymore. “did you not hear the part where he tried to kill me?”

mingyu looks like a kicked puppy when he processes your confession. “so you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

the words elicit a scoff. “that’s real bold, coming from you.”

“but you—you agreed to help me figure out who your father’s killer was. why would you do that if you did it?”

“at first i didn’t, as you know, but you were just so fucking persistent. so i figured i could try to divert your attention from me. i was going to convince you that it was a suicide. then i hear the tapes, you admitting that you poisoned him, and everything made sense. but hey, at least i wasn’t trying to frame you.”

the jab directed at him makes him feel guilty again. “so we both did it.”

“in a way. though i’d argue it was somewhat self-defense. i mean, he came onto me, tried to kill me—”

“you made a mistake and you know it.” the inspector interrupts, making you roll your eyes as he scolds you. “you should’ve called the police. but you didn’t, you just decided to hang him instead!”

“he deserved it!” you retort, displaying the clear hatred you’ve always felt towards anyone who tried to defend the man who raised you. “i don’t care what you think. and you said it yourself — i have everyone in the justice system on my payroll, if necessary. threatening to kill a family member or two also works like a charm.”

it’s silent for a few seconds after you’ve revealed this side of your true nature, and the man just stares you in the eye before grabbing a device from his backpocket.

when he clicks on the button, you already know what it is.

he recorded the whole conversation, and you already know he can’t be bribed, so this is a real problem — because it’s the one piece of evidence needed that will destroy you both.

“you do realize how stupid it was to come here alone, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“what, will you kill me too?” he asks, and when both you and mingyu deadpan a stare at him, he knows the answer.

he’s not getting out of this room alive unless he forfeits the recording.

when you and your partner in crime exchange a glance, the inspector attempts to make a run for it, only to be tackled by mingyu once he’s reached the door.

one last sacrifice.

the sound of a blade piercing through skin makes you jump, your fingers twitching.

blood begins to trickle down his body, after which mingyu pulls out the knife and pushes it in once more, higher up in the chest this time.

“oh, jesus—fuck!” you gasp to yourself when you feel the bloodsplatters hitting your face and neck, and mingyu rips the blade from the inspector’s body, letting it fall onto the carpeted floor.

you both stare at the freshly created crime scene, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, mostly just annoyed at having another crime on your hands.

“well, that is unfortunate.” mingyu sighs, after which you press your lips together, looking up at him.

“understatement of the year. did you have to stab him that quick?”

“sweetheart, he would’ve locked us both away if i didn’t.”

“i guess so.” locking the front door to ensure no one can enter, you cross your arms. “so. are we burning, burying or dumping him in a lake?”

mingyu stares at the body on the floor before locking eyes with you, and it’s like making a silent deal — that you’re in this mess together, and only together can you come out of it, as bloody and violent that road may turn out to be.

well, at the end of the day, you suppose your father was right about one little thing.

you and kim mingyu are, indeed, good together. just not in the exact way he imagined.

after all, love can exist even in the murderous heart.

thanks for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[heesdreamer]

Forgotten Consequences

PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)

SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences

WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive

WC ➩ 5.7k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece

“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”

You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.

Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.

“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.

Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.

He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.

It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.

Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.

He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.

You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.

When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.

A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.

They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.

But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.

You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.

“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.

You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.

“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.

You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.

“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.

Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.

“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.

You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.

He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.

Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.

“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.

You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.

He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.

His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.

“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.

He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.

It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.

“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”

Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.

It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.

“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.

You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.

He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.

It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.

“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.

Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.

He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.

It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.

Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.

“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.

His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.

“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”

You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.

He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.

“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.

“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.

“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.

You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.

“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”

He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.

Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.

He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”

You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.

“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”

“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”

He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.

It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.

Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.

“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.

“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.

You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.

“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”

You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.

It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.

“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.

His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.

“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”

You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.

He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.

“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”

Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.

“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.

“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”

“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”

You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.

You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.

“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.

“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.

He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.

Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.

“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”

“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”

You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.

He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.

“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”

You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.

“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.

He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.

The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.

You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.

He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.

“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.

You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.

He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.

“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”

You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.

He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.

It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.

[rose-maidenn]

🌬PAC : Your most appealing sensual qualities :-

Pile 1 :

Hii loves how are you doing?

For you I get that you know exactly how to make a person wait for something be it , your attention, your favours or your time , I get the word void for you , staying with you puts people in a state or rest or in a new world it's like you surround them with maya , it's so beautiful, be it is case of friendships or relationships you show people how worthy you are , ik nowadays how people admire nonchalance but most have got it all wrong , your way is beautiful you know how to read the room and gives them the exact amount of attention .

The way you brush your hairs in the middle of the conversation from your face is very attractive , people see your hair for hair inspo btw it's very voluminous and shiny , you remind me of the old celtic women with wavy hair, such beauty .

Moreover people really like when you wear clothes showing your waist and the way you move is very attractive it's hypnotic even , I won't be shocked if you said you learn dance because girl you're attracting the attention damn .

You're one of those people who attract attention without saying much and that is so so rare and you embody rare how stunning are youuu!!!!!!

Pile 2 :

Heyyy ,how's everything going ?

Your eyes damn those eyes , you know that they kill and you use them well angel . Your hands are very observed by other people the movement of your hands , your nails , I will not be shocked if you said you learnt mudras or reiki . I think you can easily read people's energy just by touching them. Wanna know something honey you need to be really careful about the things you say because you easily manifest . I wish all the good comes to you.

Your diction and hold on various languages and accent is very admired , the way you pronounce and the certain raspy tone to your voice is very sensual to most people it's like you're luring them in . Your anger Is so admired by many people because there's a way you fight for the causes the passion is seen in your actions and that is so attractive .

People are in awe of your thinghs I'm not even kidding , they imagine sleeping on them , they would like to see you in a sexy garter belt like damn , your skin is super shiny as well , random but I remembered coco oil by victoria's secret , maybe you should try that , your soft skin is adored by many people .

You have a luminous glow to yourself like the moon , I can't describe well but it's beautiful you're like a old Hollywood glamour queen , damn your auraaaaaa!!!!!!

Thank you so much for reading🫶✨️ , dm me if you wanna book with me 🎀 kiss kiss ♥️

[hearts4renaa]

HE IS IN LOVE.

summary: things the bsd men do that show how in love with you he is. featuring atsushi, akutagawa, dazai, chuuya, ranpo, and kunikida

contains: fluff, gender neutral reader. based off of “you are in love” by taylor swift

a/n: ahhh bsd they could never make me forget about you. reblogs are always appreciated <3

you can hear it in the silence. you can feel it on the way home. you can see it with the lights out. you are in love. true love.

—

he says “look up”, and your shoulders brush.

ATSUSHI points out anything and everything that is even slightly related to your relationship. you could be walking down the streets together and he’d suddenly point at a restaurant sign while talking excitedly, “remember how we had our first date there?!” or he’d point at a mannequin in a window and go “the color of the shirt is like those shoes you wore at ___!!” he loves you so evidently that you seep into everything he sees. for him, the world has never been so colorful.

—

no proof, one touch. but you felt enough.

AKUTAGAWA squeezes your hand three times to tell you he loves you. he’s fully aware it’s cliche as hell, but that’s never deterred him. he squeezes your hand at the most random times too. talking to a cashier? i love you. watching a film at your place? i love you. cooking in your kitchen? i love you. he may not always tell you with words, but akutagawa never fails to remind you that he loves you. you are always his favorite thing to think about.

—

morning, his place. burnt toast, sunday.

DAZAI wakes you up with three things: a kiss, a coffee, and an attempt at breakfast. keyword: attempt. bro cannot cook for shit, and he knows it, so he ends up just making you toast. it’s either barely toasted or it’s burnt, no in between. but, your coffee is always exactly how you like it, and he makes sure to write you a cheesy little note no matter what. the giggles you have at the sight of his toast makes up for the tiny bit of embarrassment he feels for still not having the toast method down. he loves you, and he knows you’ll always love him, no matter how shitty his cooking is.

—

you keep his shirt. he keeps his word.

CHUUYA swears to you before every mission that he’ll come back home to you. and he never fails. you are always on his mind, no matter how much danger he is in. he makes sure to fight long and hard if it means that at the end of the day, he gets to be in your arms. it even works for simpler things, like if he was too lazy to fill out his reports. all he has to do is remember that you’re at home waiting for him, and that gives him all the motivation he needs. they say home is where the heart is, and his heart belongs to you.

—

you two are dancing in a snow-globe round and round.

RANPO spontaneously dances with you whenever he thinks the atmosphere is pretty. when the first snowfall hit, he brought you out to dance. when there was a soft shower of summer rain, he brought you out to dance. when the sun shone through the clouds, he brought you out to dance. he doesn’t care about the lack of music or coordination. you could step on each other’s feet a thousand times, but he’d still wear the same joyous smile. no matter the weather, no matter how bad his feet might hurt after. he always thinks you’re the most beautiful when you’re dancing with him.

—

and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown.

KUNIKIDA has a little corner on his desk in the agency’s office basically dedicated to you. he has little trinkets you’ve given to him all laid out nicely, along with his favorite picture of you all framed. dazai teases him every time he walks by. kunikida tells him off each time, but he never removes anything off his desk. he glances at your picture every time he feels a little burnt out or tired. you keep him grounded, in a sense. you remind him about the reason why he’s doing all of this in the first place. there is good in the world. he knows that the world can be good because you were good to him. and he can only hope he’s been as good to you.